The Shield Blindsided
by Nyx6
Summary: When a serial killer last heard of twenty five years ago suddenly strikes again, Suplex City Police Chief Commissioner Stephanie McMahon has only three men she can call. Dean, Roman and Seth are tasked with finding the killer but things don't go exactly to plan. Nor does a returning police veteran help things. This one is going to get rough for The Shield. Story 3 in my Police AU.
1. First Movement

**Right then folks, here we go for the third time! This idea has been sitting in my head for years, tracking through various characters and settings but never actually making it into word form. But it seemed to fit so perfectly for this format it finally had to be written out!**

 **The first story was them coming back together, the second was Dean being targeted and this is a proper procedural affair with lots of twists and turns and brotherhood, of course!**

 **Hope you enjoy this opening chapter, remember to let me know what you think!**

 **Chapter titles courtesy of the iconic ELO!**

* * *

 **First Movement**

For the most part the boss lady visited the warehouse whenever she had a new case to offload, blustering in without any hint of a warning except for the ominous _click click_ of her heels and usually holding a file tucked beneath her elbow bulging with sheets or crime scene photos and notes and a launching off statement that she knew would grab hold of them and so was usually primed to turn their weary heads.

 _Missing drugs boat_.

 _Mass stabbing in the Nexus._

The only time they ever got called into _her_ office was when there was some serious shit going down, like when traffickers were trying to sell off internal organs or when she was hoping to reunite her three favourite cops. In fact if Dean had thought about it further then he probably would have realized that their summons for the reunion had been the very last time they had stepped foot through the door but was still the reason he groaned so loudly as he cast his eyes over the text message flashing on his phone.

"Ah crap, that can't be good."

Roman looked up sharply from where he was chasing a thick piece of bacon around the egg yolk on his plate and then followed the glance by narrowing his brows in instinctive concern,

"Everything alright?"

"Boss wants to see us."

Seth blew out a grumble and then stabbed reluctantly at his omelette with a fork having chosen the healthiest breakfast that was possible in the grease covered diner they had ducked into on the hoof.

"Yeah you're right that _is_ never good man, so what does she say?"

Dean brushed off his hands, shunning the napkin that had been placed beside his pancakes and instead swiping them right the down the side of his pants, but somehow still managing to smear maple syrup on the phone screen in a big sticky trail.

Fuck and triple fuck.

Putting them into his mouth he sucked on them and then garbled out the transcript of the message past his tongue, which made the words come out a little bit _spitty_ but which his long suffering teammates didn't mind much.

"Uh, she just says to get our asses down there."

Roman sighed heavily,

"Must be serious."

"Always is, I mean it ain't like we pull cats from trees for a livin' here."

"Good because those suckers will scratch your eyes out uce."

Roman finished his sentence with a grin of amusement for no other reason than to make his brothers laugh and in response to it Dean tried his best to bite a smile down but failed in an instant,

"You big fuckin' goof."

Seth grunted suddenly from his seat by the window and it sounded a little like he was groaning back at them, but then swiftly fell away into something more serious that didn't quite fit.

"Aww shit boys, this looks bad."

In terms of their grouping and who the biggest kids were, the two eldest men took the prize every time and so the fact that their younger sibling had ignored their cat banter was by no means a big or cataclysmic surprise. Instead the surprise was his out of the blue swearing and the sudden finger point he levelled towards the television screen, which was hanging from a bracket in the corner of the diner but tilted down precariously so that it faced towards them.

Dean blinked,

"What's up man?"

" _That_."

Dean frowned and then pivoted, turning to rest his hand along the back of the leather booth, which like the rest of the eatery looked haggard and ripped and badly stained and in need of some love.

Either that or a salvage yard.

Behind it up on the monitor however was a slowly scrolling news feed with a reporter stood above. Police tape was billowing in the background of the setup but was occasionally blurred by the familiar khaki of the cops, who were moving about with purpose beyond the cordon and trying to push the large media scrum back.

Roman blinked,

"The hell is going on out there?"

Dean squinted, being the closest of the three of them to the screen and then read the small by-line blitzing through on the ticker before suddenly freezing in alarm.

"Holy shit."

Seth barked at him,

"Well, what does it say man?"

"It says that another woman has been killed,"

In response to the statement his two teammates fell silent because they each knew what he was talking about and the poor girl found only a week earlier in the bushes who had been asphyxiated and then horribly unfeelingly dumped but which they hadn't been given the nod to look into since it fell beneath the bracket of _regular_ police work.

Roman shook his head,

"Serial killings? Well that would definitely make it more our gig."

Dean snorted back,

"You ain't wrong there big guy an' that ain't the half of it – they think the strangler is on the loose."

"Fuck."

It was Seth who proved the eloquent speaker and his nasally sounding bellow brought a slew of haughty looks and not least of all from the mother of three sat beside them with tattoos across her breastbone and carrying at least three hundred pounds.

Dean watched her fists curl up in indignation and then opened his mouth,

"Seth – ,"

"Fuck man, this is bad, like _really_ fucking bad."

It was about to get much worse too or at the very least would have in the next few seconds had Roman not pulled his wallet out and tossed down a bill, tucking it beneath his near licked clean breakfast plate before blowing out a sigh and climbing to his feet,

"Better see what the boss can tell us about this."

"Good idea big guy."

Dean snatched his jacket up and then shrugged himself into the thing one handed as he pulled loose some cash from the back pocket of his pants, before stepping in to flank his still irate younger brother who had no earthly concept of the behemoth he was pissing off.

"Anyone else think it's way too early to be dealing with this kind of totally messed up shit?"

 _Roid Mom_ slammed down her cutlery in fury and then turned to try and haul her bulk onto her feet. Dean pushed his teammate out roughly through the swing doors then hustled him along the kerbside to where their car was parked up, but not quickly _enough_ to stop a voice from ringing out at them, carried in the tones of the woman's four year old and so well pronounced it was like he often said it or was thinking about saying it more.

"Fuck momma, fuck fuck."

Hella good role models the three of their asses were.

But it was still kind of funny in a really warped way and luckily by the time the hellbent parental unit had prized her ass up out of her seat, their team was belted and buckled and moving, meaning that his cop badge and holster were safe for another day.

Roman flipped on the radio,

" _So, what can you tell us_?"

" _Not a whole lot at this point I'm afraid, naturally the police aren't giving much away yet_."

" _What about the link to the strangler_?"

Dean blinked and then let a shiver run over his body in some weird sort of suspenseful nervousness type shit, because the name they were saying on repeat had resonance and not least for those of them who were still on the force or could remember back twenty five years to the summer when their city had been gripped by the icy claw of dread and eleven unsuspecting woman had been kidnapped and then each and every one of them throttled to death.

 _Eleven_ women.

How had that happened and how had the bastard never been caught?

It was possibly the one case in the history of their metropolis that every last cadet and officer in training had been taught about and in detail too in preparation for their test papers, since the powers that be had been totally adamant that never would they let the same thing happen again.

Largely they had even succeeded in that mission –

But then suddenly there they were again out rallying the troops and firing on all cylinders with the city in a panic and fuelled like always by the hysterical sounding press.

" _Police say the victim was another young woman reported as missing some days before_ – ,"

Roman leaned over and turned the news off again and the car fell into silence around him at once. Nobody spoke but then again nobody wanted to, since there wasn't a whole bunch they could helpfully say and in the end a grand total of three and a half minutes passed them by quietly.

Seth predictably broke the still,

"We know it's not him right? I mean, it can't be."

"Why not?" Roman asked as he steered them through the rush and the legions of people running kids towards classrooms and living their lives and out doing _normal_ stuff.

"Because, come on it's been twenty five years man, the guy would have to be fifty years old or more."

"Plenty of killers are thereabouts or older."

"Then why the hell has he come back, why now?"

Dean shrugged vaguely in response to the question, the gesture showing up in the rear view in front but his tone staying neutral to offset his spinning brainstem and the policeman thinking going on inside his head.

"Maybe it's a copycat killin'?"

"Maybe."

Roman however didn't sound quite so sure and as the swirling speculation grew then burst quickly, Seth let out a groan,

"Ugh, I guess we're gonna have to wait and let the boss tell us what's going down here."

"Unless she's going to send us to rescue a cat?"

Dean grinned broadly and his older brother chuckled while the youngest of their trio rolled long suffering eyes and then slumped back closer and further into the fabric while tapping his fingers impatiently on the belt.

It took them another twelve minutes of traffic to get across town to where her offices were, perched high above the greenery and splendour of Hornswoggle Park and covered in the type of expensive picture windows that looked black from the outside to reflect back the light. Stephanie's assistant let them in without knocking and then ushered them past her towards the long dark wood desk and the brown haired woman sitting behind it looked up coolly and then dropped down her pen, her pitched tone snippy and clipped,

"Gentlemen, I'm glad you could finally make it."

Passive aggression was never a good start and in response to it Seth blew an aggrieved sounding breath out and sat himself down heavily in one of the waiting leather chairs.

"It's rush hour and we were on the other side of town,"

"I called you eighteen minutes ago."

"Then maybe we should have blue lights to stick on our asses?" Dean threw in cheerfully to cut through the tension that his boss and little brother seemed to pull out of thin air in a way that made them seem like overgrown children only far _worse_.

Kids would at least have kissed and made up.

Stephanie blinked up at him from under raised eyebrows and with a look that would have turned a lesser man to stone, but which made the copper blonde smile back at her smugly like a chimp at the zoo that had learnt to throw its own turds.

"No blue lights, we've had this conversation."

"Red lights then?"

She gestured to the seats,

"Dean sit down."

Roman stepped past to take up his own chair and caught his brother's sleeve in a placid little tug that cautioned against pissing their boss off too dramatically when they were less than one and a half minutes in through the door. Dean threw his eyes to the heavens in resentfulness but then followed the bigger man and slumped down before the desk, promptly almost sliding right off the leather cushions and flailing a little before righting himself.

Stephanie blinked back at him,

"When you're quite ready."

He made a circle with his thumb and forefinger,

"A-okay."

Mostly his kookiness tended to amuse her but in the ongoing climate it fell pretty flat and instead their boss merely pulled out a folder and flapped back the cover before drawing a photo out. She paused for a second to drink in the image and then turned it and pushed it across the polished desk top, where it skittered to a halt less than an inch from their noses and sobered them in an instant.

Seth groaned,

"Oh crap."

He wasn't wrong on that one either.

Looking back at them was the image of a woman lying face down on a hard concrete floor, her body had been laid out to seem like she was sleeping but her cold open eyes made it clear she was dead. Her head was turned and her hair was pushed back far enough that the three men could see red twine around her neck which had been wrapped several times and then pulled tightly.

Dean sucked a breath in.

 _Fuck_.

"Is she the first one?"

Stephanie began rooting through the file again, her plum painted nails leafing swiftly through the papers before coming to the one she wanted and pulling it out. Her tone was heavy with worry and tension but she also sounded hugely angry as well and as she shunted the sheet towards them to join the photo, it became fast apparent exactly why that was.

"Her name was Alexa Bliss and she was a twenty two year old student studying medicine."

In other words then just a kid.

Before them the new sheet of paper made that plainer, since it contained basic a breakdown of knowledge about her life and was accompanied by what was obviously her student card photo since it showed her happy and smiling straight into the lens. She had blonde hair that hung straight down past her shoulders and a cluster of freckles that offset deep blue eyes. In essence she was like any other hopeful student or _had_ been.

Roman let out a growl by his side.

"What about the girl from this morning? Any connection?"

Stephanie nodded,

"Information is still coming in, but based on the circumstances and signatures then I would say yes."

"Signatures?"

It was a word they had all noted instantly but in the end it was down to their youngest man to ask. Seth looked up from the photo with his brows drawn and a hint of low caution beginning to creep in.

Dean took over,

"What kind of signatures? You mean like the kind a serial killer might use?"

For a second their boss said nothing and did nothing, simply continuing to stare over the desk, but then eventually she licked her lips and pulled out more photos, but a bunch of them that time and mostly taken in black and white. She pushed them across the woodwork and then fanned them, so that each of the polaroid shots was on view and while it was clear that they were totally different images, at first glance they all seemed one and the same.

"These are the crime scenes from twenty five years ago – ,"

Seth frowned,

"From the strangler case? You think it's him then?"

Stephanie ignored him and kept on fanning, pressing her finger down on each one in turn and highlighting the snaps that had shots of the walls on and where a darkly painted message was repeatedly daubed.

 _Sin is crouching at the door_.

It seemed to be the thing that linked every case, notwithstanding the use of the red twine to do the killing which they already knew about and which had been reported in the press. The dripping scrawl on the walls was new to them however and a feature of the cases they had neither studied nor ever seen and Roman blinked up in measures of confusion at their stern faced employer.

"He left messages?"

"Every time."

"So then why is this the first time we're seeing them?"

"We wanted to establish a line to the killer – in case he called – it was something only he knew."

Despite her use of the word _we_ in the sentence, when the initial murders had been happening she had still been in school or else was being grown in the lab by scientists or however the hell she had truly been formed. Either way the one thing she _hadn't_ been at that point was one of the leading lights on the case but naturally in line with her general disposition and swaggering bloodline she liked to act as if she had.

Seth sat forward,

"Did he call?"

"Never."

"So what was the point of even putting the message up?"

Dean shrugged back,

"He wanted to taunt 'em, make 'em think like he was goin' to get in contact but never was."

If _he_ had been a murderous serial killer, then screwing with the police force would have been totally his thing and so it therefore stood to reason that any smug asshole being hunted by the city would have had a mocking side.

Stephanie nodded back at him,

"Possibly – ,"

"Oh _for sure_ boss."

She carried on succinctly,

"But now the messages are back, they were found at the crime scenes last week and this morning."

Seth swallowed a lump down,

"So he _is_ back? I mean, nobody else ever knew about the messages? Not the press or anyone?"

"Only the task force."

"Shit."

It wasn't exhaled as a bark of frustration but instead more of a sigh as the thoughts rattled around his head and which the younger man's brothers could fully attest to since the very real facts had knocked all three of them for six. Roman cleared his throat and then sat forward, pushing the bloody looking photos away and then fixing brown eyes in over the desk top as he moved into police mode.

"Any ideas on why now?"

"No but there is something of interest – ,"

Manicured hands scrabbled at the mound of papers once more, which were fast beginning to get a little shuffled which she would probably regret later when she couldn't find anything but in the tension of the moment hadn't obviously occurred to her since she pulled loose another one and upset several more.

Dean blinked,

"What's that?"

It was placed down in front of them and then spun so they could see the detailed writing for themselves, which revealed the new sheet was in fact an autopsy but short of reading the whole thing it gave little away. Luckily however their boss filled in the blanks for them, pointing to the relevant lines as she did and tapping her nails with a little _click click_ sound that seemed like an homage to her ever noisy heels.

"Alexa Bliss wasn't strangled."

Dean rocked his head back,

"What?"

"She was smothered and drugged."

His brothers too seemed equally baffled and slowly three sets of eyes swung towards the snaps and the one in particular of her poor cold body laid out on the ground with the cord around her neck. Seth even jabbed it roughly with his finger,

"Then why is it there?"

"It was added post mortem and from what I'm hearing it's the same for the victim they found today as well."

"So what, the guy is switching up his method?"

But that explanation didn't sit so well, because murdering folk was not the same as picking carpet or looking at varying colors and styles. Killers liked to stick to certain routines and structures and therefore rarely if ever ventured off from those too far.

Roman scrubbed a hand across his face fluff thoughtfully,

"Well twenty five years _is_ a pretty long time, maybe he doesn't have the same strength he used to."

"But the original victims were all strangled, right?" Seth bit out, still rooting through the photos like he couldn't break away from their weirdly morbid draw, but more than likely looking for clues or information that had potentially been overlooked.

Stephanie nodded,

"Every single one."

"And you're sure no one outside knows about the messages, right?"

Her head bobbed again firmly as she looked up and fixed her gaze, barely even flinching for a solitary second as she answered with an assured sounding syllable.

"Yes."

"So I guess now you're askin' _our_ non-blue-light-wearin' asses to fix this shit?" Dean threw out with a breath, reaching across to pick up a coaster that was attempting to keep watery rings from the desk, then beginning to spin it on its axis in an absent little gesture to free up his tapping hands.

His boss raised a brow,

"Why else would I invite you?"

"Sparklin' conversation?"

"With you Ambrose? That's a stretch."

Beside him his elder brother nodded resolutely, ignoring the sniped teasing with long practised ease but accepting the case on behalf of their grouping like they actually had a damn choice in the thing.

"We'll see what we can do."

"Good," Stephanie snapped briskly before suddenly sitting forward to tap the buzzer on her desk, then bending towards it as her assistant crackled back at her to be answered by four words, "Send him in now."

Dean blinked,

"Huh? Send the hell _who_ in?"

He wasn't too happy at the look that flashed back, because their no-nonsense boss was actually grinning at him, like some sort of monstrous big cat who'd got the cream and even worse than that was her steepling her fingers in a measure of smugness which was never fucking good.

Stephanie tipped her head,

"In light of the situation I thought you might benefit from the help of someone who knows the case."

" _We_ know the case."

"But not as well as this man – ,"

Behind them the big black doors to her office clicked out loudly and then a figure strode in, his height alone making him appear like a giant and his glower contributing to the intensity that he was wearing like a cape. Dean had never seen the guy in his life before but based on their reactions his brothers clearly had, since both of them gaped like they'd seen an apparition and Seth even spluttered eloquently,

" _Holy crap_."

Stephanie raised a hand up and pointed it towards the new man,

"Mark Calaway, former lead officer on the case and the only person I trust to see us through this."

In response the man mountain minutely inclined his head and then forced on an expression that Dean figured was a smile, or maybe _would_ have been if the glower hadn't precluded it and turned it into something more vicious than warm.

Dean blinked blue eyes in return then scowled.

"We don't need help Steph."

She ignored him with ease and continued to beam up at the shaven haired goliath with a look of total reverence.

"Mark, welcome to the team."

* * *

 **Yep, finally got The Undertaker into a story, I promised I would! Next chapter, Dean is in a bad mood to put it mildly! Anyone want our boy snappy and snarky?! I hope so!**


	2. Here Is The News

**Aww, thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed! You guys honestly make me smile so freaking wide! Glad that so many people are ready to enter into this craziness again. Totally happy to have you with me for the ride!**

 **SkittlezLvr79, This journey is very much going to be an up and down one. I have twists galore coming atcha as we go. Also, this one is much more mysterious, so you will be free to make wild guesses at things the whole way too! Snarky Dean continues and then some in this chapter. He's too cute when he's sullen so I had to write more!**

 **Sodapop25, Hey! Welcome back to my crazy little police AU! Big things coming up in this story so I'm super stoked that you're ready to go. I know I say 'strap in' a lot but this time I really mean it! Things are going to get wild!**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Thank you, glad you're back for this one too. Come in, pull up a chair and make yourself comfortable, no popcorn I'm afraid but that's okay, right? Hope you enjoy this one. I'm going to try and keep you guessing until right at the end, because, well, I'm mean!**

 **Cherry619, Aww, thank you. I'm so glad you're back and that you love this AU so much. I'm so happy that I somehow managed to dream this crazy up! I've also got some ideas for new one-shots too, so I'm going to pitch headfirst back into writing some of those as well so that when I've finished posting this, we won't go back to the drought!**

 **Mandy, Yay! I'm glad my little posting has made you so happy and how could the smoking hot Aunt not come back? Plus, Seth is good in this universe, so extra happy! I'm kind of spreading his character around in my stories! Bad in the Lauren ones, lovable here! In other words, I've got you covered girl, I make Seths in all shapes, sizes and forms, lol!**

 **Minnie1015, They are back and I'm going darker with this one and I'm going to give the answers away easily either. My plan (although I've probably not written it as artfully as I hope I have) is to keep you all guessing and tossing out ideas pretty much right up to the end. Kinda my version of a real whodunnit with obvious Dean mishaps along the way!**

 **Skovko, Oh god, I know, I'm sorry about Alexa...in fact I'm really anti-feminist to the girls in this one. I kind of run a big old axe through the roster. But that's okay if I apologise in advance, right? Start casting your guesses about the murderer now, because I'm not going to make it easy for you. This one is going to be a guessing game story, so get your detective hat out!**

 **Cjmouthorp, Oh wow, thank you so much. It really makes me grin like an idiot when I hear that people enjoy my work. Hopefully this story lives up to expectations. It's going to be more cryptic than the others because I'm not going to give the killer away too soon so you're going to have to try and figure it out like the boys. Fingers crossed you like it!**

 **Rebel8954, Well, snarky Dean is so not a problem because he's going to be in a mood for the first few chapters at least! He's such a kid and I totally love it! Btw, super happy you're back for this one and looking forward to reading yourself some more crazy! The Undertaker has a big role to play in this one so I'm glad you're pleased that the big guy is here!**

 **Kirrak, Hello again! Welcome back. Yeah, I could never stay away from this little police universe for too long and the good news is that I've got a bunch of ideas for more one-shots too, so hopefully this new story will tide you over and then I can get those up and running again. Hope you like this chapter as much as the first one!**

 **Littlewave500, Ooh, I must have known that The Undertaker was one of your favourites too! Glad your stoked for what's about to come, but I warn you it's going to get crazy! The Undertaker is a big cool dude, right? He and Dean interacting together is going to be a common theme and so is Dean being bitchy and bad tempered, lol!**

 **Daisysakura, Me? Put the boys in trouble or make Dean go through chaos and strife?! Hmmm, that doesn't sound right? Nah, only kidding! This one is going to get pretty wild, but hopefully in the best kind of way and I'm super happy you're on board for this one in real time too. With any luck it will live up to expectations and we'll all be happy at the end!**

 **Okay, so let's fill this thing out a little more then...**

* * *

 **Here Is The News**

It turned out that Mark Calaway was a big shot in the police world, or at the very least had been before he had decided to retire, but still held the record for most arrests or convictions or something like that anyway.

Dean wasn't too sure.

Seth had told him in a breathless little gabble as they had left their boss' offices and stalked towards their car, but then again Seth had done a whole _lot_ of talking and had been rattling facts off so hard Dean had lost the will to care and in the end only flashes of the chatter had stayed with him.

 _Most decorated detective._

 _The Undertaker._

Oh yeah.

Like it wasn't bad enough that their team was being burdened with a totally unnecessary, unwanted fourth man, it turned out that the guy had his own goddamn nickname and had even introduced himself using it,

"Call me Taker."

Dean was not a fan.

It wasn't like the guy had done anything horrific or like he even on the face of it seemed all that bad, but more that the copper blonde straight up resented the thought of another person being a part of their gang, hated letting somebody else into his family _._ Except for the fact that it was _their freaking job_ and so to that end he had clambered into the truck with a grumble and then sighed in relief when Seth had hopped in alongside since it meant he could perch in the back and look grumpy for the duration of the one-sided conversational ride.

Roman and Seth had _not_ stopped talking.

Seth in particular had been ridiculously wide eyed, like a holy messiah had slid into the front seat to bless them with his presence but which wasn't too far off as the younger man had then made patently obvious by actually fan-girling for the following fifteen miles. Evidently it seemed, when Seth had been a kiddie dreaming of a career with a badge and a gun, his idol had been the lanky man trapped there with them and he had followed his career like a teenage girl in love.

"I'm telling you I cut out every news item you were mentioned in, stuck them up all over my walls."

Dean had coughed and then mumbled towards him,

"You're soundin' real creepy."

"Fuck you."

Dean had smiled.

But in many ways his youngest brother having a man crush would have almost been bearable were he not the only one, since even steadfast and unflappable _Roman_ treated their new house guest like the sun shone from his ass. Not only that, but Mark Calaway even knew him since he had crossed paths with their big man's former policeman pop and had even once or twice met a seven year old kid Roman, which he said he remembered.

Dean wasn't so sure.

Either way the fact remained that regardless of his misgivings, the nickname sporting veteran was a temporary member of their team, which meant that the sooner they got the case sewn up and settled the sooner they could get back to being a happy unit of three and so the copper blonde made the decision to be a big boy and suck it up the only real way he knew how.

Bitchy silence and healthy death glares it was then.

Not that the first of things lasted for very long, since on returning to their warehouse base and going to grab a coffee he sauntered back to find their guest in his chair.

"That's my desk."

"Hey," Seth snapped, hissing the word warningly since it was evident to all of them that he was he was behaving like a child and the middle man responded to it by moving to the sofa where he sat down too heavily and slopped latte over his hand.

Crap.

Mark blinked across at him in measures of understanding then planted his hands on either side of the chair before pushing himself up with a puff of exertion and a smile of gruff apology,

"No problem, I can move."

Roman snorted briskly and flapped him back down again,

"Nah, you're all good, uce here just doesn't like sharing his toys with anyone."

Dean threw his brother a murderous look and then pulled a face before mouthing some words out that were meant to be a silent impression of his friend and not a very flattering one either and –

 _Jesus_.

He really was acting like a damn kid.

Blowing a breath out he dipped his head into the coffee mug and then tried to mask his temper in the steam, in the hopes that the smell and the longed for hit of caffeine might make him seem more human instead of insane.

"So man," Seth put in energetically, trembling like a puppy about to head out for a bracing walk, "Maybe we should start from the beginning on all of this, what can you say about the first investigation that the three of us might not already know?"

"Hmmm."

Mark sighed heavily and then raised his eyebrows like he was trying to figure the thing out for himself but after a few seconds of that he sat forward and dropped his big forearms down on top of his knees. He looked like he was settling his bulk in to tell a story to a bunch of clamouring kindergarten kids, which based on the way the two teammates were gaping was not a totally inaccurate parallel to make.

He chuckled huskily,

"Well, I'll tell you boys one thing, it was the one that got away from me and that's for damn sure."

"You never even had an idea of who did it?"

"Oh we had _ideas_ sure, but none of 'em panned out, every damn one of those bastards had an alibi."

"What about the messages?"

"The ones on the walls? Boastin', plain and simple."

Dean grunted,

"No shit, huh?"

It was exactly what he had said only since _his_ ass wasn't a veteran detective with a ridiculously tall frame and a bandana around his head, evidently his instincts counted for little and the realization of that made him feel moody again.

Damn.

Lowering his gaze and balancing his mug on the cushion, he swung open the file that was perched on his legs and which had been a parting gift from their no-nonsense patron who had given them pretty much the entire _archive_ of stuff and had also included the autopsy for Alexa Bliss that she had only been able to paraphrase at the time.

Meanwhile his brothers kept pumping their new buddy,

"Why do you think he eventually stopped?"

It was Roman who asked the all-important question as he clambered onto his feet again and then slowly trampled his way across the room, stopping to collect their empty cups in the interim and then firing their trusty coffee machine back to life again.

Mark snorted wryly,

"Maybe he grew tired of it."

"Not likely," Seth replied with an unconvinced frown, "Mostly these people get _worse_ not better."

"Then perhaps something happened that made him rethink?"

Roman looked back,

"Like marriage or children?"

Mark nodded slowly,

"I mean, I _guess_ it could fit."

Behind him their coffee machine stopped its busy whirring and the smell of fresh beans proliferated through the air and threw clouds of steam up through the brilliant sunbeams that were flowing beyond the casements and painting the space with bright plumes.

"Uce?"

"Hmm?"

Dean had been so busy scanning through the post mortem that he barely even registered the big man move in close and so jolted a little as a pair of size fifteens scuffed the flooring and then nudged their way into the top of his scope. Roman was standing looking down at him mildly but it was clear that was he was attempting to draw him back into the fold, not liking his friend being isolated not to mention so obviously in a teenage sized huff.

Brown eyes blinked evenly,

"What are you thinking?"

"Sodium thiopental."

"You might wanna break that down for me."

Dean planted a finger on a line of the autopsy then stabbed at it a few times like extra energy would prove his point, but which only succeeded in drawing more attention as everyone in the room stared in bewilderment his way,

"Steph said the girl last week was drugged right? Before she was killed? Well that's what he used."

Seth frowned,

"I've never heard of it."

Mark shifted himself a little which made the back of the copper blonde's desk chair squeak and Dean had to fight the urge to look back up at him and fire another glare loose as the older man chipped in,

"It was one of the drugs used in lethal injections but they stopped transportin' it a couple years ago."

"What does it do?"

"Makes folk real sleepy, kinda relaxed and calm you know?"

Roman sighed,

"So where would our guy get it from?"

Seth spun around and starting keying at his computer which struck up the familiar little _tap tap tap_ that at some point had become the backbeat of their existence and was oddly kind of soothing like a tropical rainforest or waterfall sounds.

He had the answer in less than ten seconds,

"Still used by psychotherapists and veterinarians."

"Well there you go."

"Yeah," Dean grumbled, "But it doesn't tell us _why_ though, unless it's – like – another guy or some shit?"

"What?"

Mark looked up at him suddenly and sharply and then slowly narrowed his pale blue-green eyes, like Dean had suggested they all went skinny dipping or stayed up late braiding hair or played toilet paper bride. In response to it the copper blonde shrugged like it was obvious, then looked around the room for support,

"Maybe a son? Someone who would have their separate own way of doin' it but would still know the slogan."

Seth blinked,

"Nice one man. I mean, it would certainly answer some of the questions we got here – ,"

"But not get us closer to the guy," Mark shot back, throwing in a smile of _nice try though buddy_ but taking a massive crap on his suggestion nonetheless and then proceeding to blow a long breath out before chuckling mildly.

Roman glanced at him,

"What?"

"Man I never thought I would be doin' this shit again, not after I retired and got my gold watch."

He waggled his wrist to prove the point he was still wearing it and the links jangled cheerfully like bells and caught the light, reminding them all that their gift from the city if they managed to make it to their dotage without being shot, was a smattering of applause a handshake and a timepiece.

Dean grunted unhappily,

He had almost had his _kidneys_ cut out.

Being able to match his watch to the earring he no longer sported was horrible compensation for that gruesome fact and that was presuming he even _made_ it to retirement otherwise his thanks would be a brass plaque and a long pine box.

Roman cleared his throat,

"How are you finding being retired?"

"Probably the same as your old man – lotta golf, lotta of thinkin' you coulda done things differently."

"You miss it?"

"Don't let my wife hear you sayin' that."

Roman grinned back,

"I'm sure it ain't that bad?"

"No, I'm just messin' with you, retirement has it's points, vacations for one, I never got those before."

"Crime never sleeps man."

Mark snorted,

"You're tellin' me boys, you know I went on a god damn _cruise_? Her idea of course but I liked it."

He leaned back at that point and stretched out his legs before crossing them loosely over at the ankles like he was starting to slowly relax into the place but which earned him another blue eyed death stare from the sofa that he remained unaware of on the face of things at least.

Roman saw but easily glossed over it,

"Your wife is called Michelle, right?"

"Love of my life and I've had a couple, but this time I know it's the whole nine yards deal. Met her 'bout eleven years ago one evenin' and I've never been happier. I honestly mean that. That woman is my whole damn future."

Dean felt himself tense up where he was sat and then tried not to make it too completely obvious that hearing the words was like a knife to the gut and then possibly some sort of cluster bomb thrown in on top of it.

 _He_ had felt like that before.

He had known that type of devotion and anytime he was reminded that he no longer had it punctured his mood like a popping balloon, all loud and limp and angry and snappy and he hated that he would forever have to feel pain like that.

Never, ever would it get any better.

Roman coughed and when Dean glanced upwards, it was to find that both his teammates were looking his way, with Seth even having given up his _tap tapping_ to gaze across the room to make sure his ass was okay. It wasn't but the fact they were worrying about him made him suck a breath in and then pull himself straight, because the last thing he needed was their guest clueing into it and wondering what was happening.

Except on that front it was too late.

Mark blinked up and then glanced around at the teammates,

"Did I slip up there and say somethin' wrong?"

Dean felt himself flinch bodily in apprehension but kept his eyes focussed on the autopsy report, hoping that a healthy measure of silence would change the trajectory but once again being disappointed as Roman sighed in response,

"Uh, uce lost someone – someone special."

 _Fill in the blanks man._

Mark paused briefly and then let his mouth fall open as his big broad head began to very slowly nod. It was pretty swiftly followed by a look of pure sympathy which the copper blonde tried not to let burn into his soul since he in no way wanted or needed his commiserations when he hadn't asked for them and which would be nearly two years too late.

"Oh geez, I'm sorry man."

"Uh huh, whatever."

Dean felt like that was the best way to respond to it, but his grunt also made it clear that he wasn't in the talking mood.

Roman hustled to shore up silence,

"How is the rest of the family? You had a kid right?"

"Four now man, eldest is just turned twenty five and doin' real well too."

"You still live locally or not?"

Mark threw back the rest of his coffee and then set the mug down entirely too hard, which sent up a porcelain clank that filled the whole room up and likely left a ding on the plywood desk top, which was honestly something that Dean shouldn't have cared about since he passed his thoughtful moments poking thumb tacks into the damn thing, but _did_ care about because it was _his_ furniture and on that basis by rights should only have been wrecked by him.

"Buildin' myself a house up on the outskirts and she is gonna be somethin' else when she's done. You boys will have to come up there and visit her."

Seth spun round giddily and then almost tipped from his chair,

"Seriously man?"

"Absolutely, I'll lay the grill on, that's the way we have a party back home – you're all invited."

He lifted his voice up to make sure it carried right the way across the room and in response to the tones, Dean winced a little and then took a chance on peeking over before trying to hold back a groan. Mark was staring right fucking at him and offering out the hand of truce and it was so god damn totally and utterly magnanimous that he couldn't turn it down without looking like a dick.

He painted on an unconvincing smile,

"Sounds good, thanks."

It sounded anything but.

Luckily however their big comrade seemed not to notice, since he smiled back then slapped a broad hand to his leg, before hauling his long frame out of the creaking desk chair and looking around,

"Now where do I go to take a leak?"

He was pointed at once in the direction of the bathroom and the three of them sat silently as he turned to shuffle off, limping a little and wincing at the movement like some big mighty stag who had moved past his prime and was waiting for hunting season to open.

Dean even felt a hint of pity for him.

Maybe not.

"Okay," Roman blew out the second the bathroom door locked, "What's eating you babe?"

Blue eyes blinked up,

"Huh?"

Seth snorted loudly,

"You're like a bear with a sore head man and you're making it pretty damn obvious as well."

Dean shrugged back,

"I just don't think we need help on this, I mean, we never have done before so why the fuck now?"

Seth threw his hands up in a gesture of frustration or perhaps an appeal to the heavens or both and then turned back to his computer screen mumbling darkly which was his usual way of dealing with what made him hot and frankly comprised everything from rain clouds to pollen and meant he was therefore pretty frequently pissed off. Roman however was thankfully more even as he stared across easily,

"Hey, nothing's going to change, he's just helping out this one time and that it's babe."

"But – ,"

"The three of us are still the real team here, okay?"

Dean felt moronic hearing it said back to him because of fucking _course_ that was what they were and he knew it too and had essentially always known it, so then what in the hell was the matter with him? If he had been a psychiatrist or counselor or something instead of an underpaid trouble-prone cop, then he might have posited the tentative theory that he was used to the good things in his life being torn down and therefore saw change in any capacity and however fleeting as a cataclysmic thing. Fortunately however since he didn't have a doctorate he decided instead to chalk it up to the basics and the fact that he was a crazy, crazy man.

Blowing a breath out he scratched at his neck line in the way he often did when he was nervous or thinking hard and which functioned as his own sort of _Ambrose based_ answer to Seth sighing and tapping his damn keyboard too hard.

"Yeah – yeah I know uce, m' all just worked up and jittery."

Roman snorted softly,

"Must be the case."

"Guess so."

Both of them knew in a heartbeat that it wasn't but the silent introspection was thankfully cut off as Mark let himself back out of the bathroom and then looked up brightly,

"So, this is your show boys, what's the plan?"

Seth turned to cross the open space towards their printer, from which he was running off a bibliography of stuff and which mostly looked to be thiopental-related and included supplier lists that he was clearly hoping one of them would chase up.

"I'm gonna get a head start on the victims,"

Roman nodded,

"I'll help you unbox all this stuff."

Behind them Dean snapped shut the case file briskly and then clambered to his feet holding one of the sheets and feeling the tension flow from his shoulders at the prospect of getting started on their new mountain of shit.

"M' gonna go and pay a visit to a friend of ours, get the inside line on this whole drug thing."

Seth grinned,

"Hey great idea man, Mark can go with you."

Dean glowered at him in absolute horror, but their new teammate looked up and then nodded his head, plucking his too long leather coat from the chair back and shrugging it on before gesturing,

"After you."

Dean felt his shoulder blades slump down on instinct as the feelings of displeasure swirled back again, but handled it with all the professionalism he could muster by reaching over as he strolled past and roundly slapping his brother's head.

" _Ow_."

* * *

 **Poor Dean, thinking big bad Mark is going to steal his brothers away. I won't lie though, if someone butts into any of my friendship groups, I kind of low key feel the same way!**

 **Next chapter Mark and Dean get to talking and a favourite character makes another appearance because how on earth could I ever leave him out?**

 **Plus, for anyone who was reading my Little Brother stories, today is my mother's last chemotherapy session, so big yay all round here!**


	3. Strange Magic

**You guys all are so totally amazing with your lovely reviews and your wishes for my mother. I'm sending big old virtual hugs to you all! Probably a terrible time to post since you'll all be watching the rumble, but hey, I'm a creature of habit after all!**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Thanks for your wishes for my mum! As for your opinions on Taker? I've sworn myself to secrecy, so you'll just have to read the whole story to the end (but can I say I love the way your mind works?!)**

 **Sodapop25, Awww, thank you, my mum has been amazing but it's tough. Super glad you're still enjoying this series and all the crazy goings on. Hope you like this chapter too, we get a bit of air clearing and a bit of Bo!**

 **Skovko, Haha, I'm pretty sure if I threw my mum a fistbump she would have no idea what it was *five minutes later* yep, clueless! Btw, I will accept all guesses as to what is happening in this story so guess away!**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Aww, thank you, hope you're liking where it's heading and I hope you like this chapter too, I'm packing a lot in and I'm even ending it on a had-to-be-done cameo because...well...it had to be done!**

 **Hayley1001, Hello! I always hope whenever I post something that somebody new will jump on board so thank you for reviewing and letting me know you're enjoying it. Curiosity is good and I welcome all guesses!**

 **Mandy, Thank you for your congratulations, it feels like we're getting there with my mum. As for Seth? I've written a story for the oneshot series with just them so when I post that up, I think you'll like it!**

 **Kirrak, Thank you. Been kind of rough here, but we're getting there now. I'm glad you liked the last chapter, it was fun writing the new dynamics. Fingers crossed you'll like this too, because if nothing else...well, Bo!**

 **Minnie1015, It's Bo! I cannot believe what a moron I turned him into but I love him anyway! Glad you like snarky Dean, I see him like a child being speak-first-regret-it-later and then having to remember to be an adult!**

 **Guest, Thank you, I'm glad you like my crazy creation and the horrible situations I keep flinging the poor boys into! I'm not going to give anything away but Taker certainly makes for some interesting scenes!**

 **Raze Olympus, Aww, thanks for hashtagging my mum...if she knew what that was she would smile! Also, yep, badass Undertaker in the house but as for how badass he is I'm going to leave for you to read and find out!**

 **Daisysakura, Aww, I love writing scenes where Roman moves in and just quells whatever Dean is freaking about, I just totally think he would have that easy vibe about him which makes everything seem okay in a flash!**

 **Derick Lindsey, Hello and welcome! I love all guesses but am going to be cruel and not say anything either way about them! But I will give you one little titbit...it's Bo! Suffice to say that Mark/Taker finds him...unusual!**

 **Cherry619, Haha, yep, it's our own lovable goofball. God only knows why I turned him into such of a moron but it seems to work! If in doubt, throw in Bo, that's my motto in life! Plus I love him embarrassing Dean!**

 **Cheryl24, I know I'm writing this stuff but real life unsolved murders freak me out! Maybe that's why I put the boys into this universe? To write wrongs (or maybe I like them with badges and guns, yep, that's it!)**

 **Time to clear the air then...**

* * *

 **Strange Magic**

Dean took twenty minutes to get through the traffic to the point where his informant had asked them to meet, throughout which the veteran beside him stayed silent having no doubt picked up on the rumbling undertones of hate and the fact that the copper blonde was not exactly the admirer that the two of his long haired teammates were.

He pulled the car up and then shut off the engine praying to the heavens that the silence would last but then found that hope scuppered in the space of thirty seconds as the older man propped his feet up and cleared his throat a bit,

"So then son – ,"

"M' not really one for small talk, kinda gets me all riled up y' know man?"

He wasn't even kidding on that front either since being in the car with the interloping stranger had turned him into a nervous finger tapping wreck in a lack of socialization that he totally hated but which had pretty much always been a part of who he was. People who wanted to build relationships with him had to be persuasive or hard headed to the extreme, since his natural reaction was to shunt their hands away from him and so had therefore only ever really been accomplished by a few individuals.

The people he loved the most.

His fiancée had managed to bypass his barriers simply because she hadn't registered they were there and had breezed into his life with smiles and a can-do attitude that had tamed his natural impulse to want to bite her hand.

 _Her_.

In many ways theor love had been a lifetime movie, or a weepy sentimental piece that only premenstrual women saw but was about some beaten and mistrustful scruffy hound dog that had learnt to trust again thanks to the devoation of a pretty girl. He cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter as the familiar lump rose up in his throat and then pointedly turned to stare through the windshield so that the veteran wouldn't see his stupid eyes tearing up.

Mark nodded slowly,

"I thought it could be helpful to figure each other out a little bit here."

"What's to figure?"

It wasn't like he was complex when all he wanted to do was to be left well alone and the people that he knew were worth cultivating bonds with were the ones that _got_ that and so therefore didn't push. Like his brothers for one and his boss for another and at times even the damn smug ass mayor of their town and which _also_ included the man they were waiting for in spite of the fact that it was hella hard to admit, but the person it didn't include was sitting alongside him –

Dean Ambrose and Mark Calaway would never be friends.

Except that nobody had evidently told the big man, since he blew out a wry chuckle and then shook his head, the knot of his bandana bobbing in the blue eye line as the copper blonde tried to look like he wasn't tensed up.

"Steph warned me you might be kinda antsy about this shit."

Dean blinked in outrage at him,

"The fuck – ,"

He would be phoning to yell at her for that no question and likely engaging in one of their exchanges that teetered on the borders of full on war and which they seemed to have to visit every month notwithstanding like some weird ass and irritating ritual they had.

Mark held his hands up,

"Look brother, I get it – ,"

Dean knew the nickname was a general term or possibly something to do with the police force and fraternity and that shit but he hated it all the same, since he already had two people that called him _brother_ in a way that made it mean something for once and so to hear it thrown out lazily offended him and loosened his tongue,

"M' not your brother man, this isn't fuckin' summer camp."

"Hey take it easy, I was just tryin' to break the ice."

"Why?"

"Well I figure if we're gonna be teammates then I should probably know the guys havin' my back."

Dean snorted bitterly,

"Steph hasn't already told you?"

Mark looked back across the space in between them and for a moment his face was weirdly sort of blank to the point where the copper blonde thought briefly he might have frozen and was waiting for a reboot or maybe a kick. Luckily however it turned out to be neither since the veteran grunted briskly and then began to nod his head, like he was having a conversation the younger man had no part in but which seemed to settle something,

"Then I guess I'll go first."

"First at what?"

"Tellin' you more 'bout me."

Dean snorted wryly then passed a hand between them before tipping his wrist over to check the time on his watch, then grumbling at the fact that his usually prompt contact had chosen that particular meeting to be late.

 _Fuck_.

"Thanks but I'll pass man, I heard enough at the office – beautiful wife, lotta golf, new house – that 'bout right? Hell, I'll throw in the cruise and twenty year old kid thing if you think I wasn't listenin'."

"Twenty five."

"What?"

"My son is twenty five, not twenty, so maybe you weren't listenin' as hard as you thought?"

"What the – ,"

"Besides, I never even got to the good part."

Dean blinked back at him in measures of confusion because usually when he turned his sarcastic barbs on a person they either skittered backwards or sometimes fucking ran but which were having no effect on the man sat beside him who was staring through the windshield like they were breeze-shooting former friends.

Dean coughed out a sentence,

"What – what was the good part?"

He figured he had no other option but to ask since his limited knowledge of social situations was being depleted like he had almost never known and short of outright stepping from the vehicle and therefore blowing their cover he had little recourse left.

Mark kept on looking dead ahead,

"I never told you why my old ass is actually here."

"You mean on this case?"

"Uh huh."

"Steph said she asked you."

"But that's where you're wrong brother because it was _me_ that asked _her_."

"What?"

Dean was so totally surprised by the answer that it masked being referred to as _brother_ again and he blinked across the space and then folded his brows in until his forehead was so furrowed that it upset his messy bangs. In response to it the veteran sighed and tipped his hands up like he was waiting for the lightning to knock him down dead and which would probably have been a pretty mean feat through the chassis but not utterly impossible in the grand scheme of things.

"I told you boys this is the one that got away from me, so that makes what's goin' on here my fault."

Dean frowned at him,

"You mean for not gettin' him the first time? Come on man, that's not totally on you."

"It isn't huh?"

"No, like this guy is real sneaky plus you didn't have fuckin' computers back then so – ,"

"We had computers."

"Really?"

Dean blinked back at him and then let out a surprised sounding little grunt although whether in relation to the failed investigation or the word processor titbit he wasn't too sure. But then again hadn't he sat through some programme about how the first computers had been invented thousands of years ago to precisely mathematically scale down the universe so it could be made it into a timepiece to predict comets and stars?

Wow.

He had forgotten how totally cool that fact was and so he made a mental note to let somebody know, since it seemed the sort of thing that people would like hearing or that might come up on a million buck primetime quiz show some time.

Mark shook his head again from beside him,

"Some cop _I_ am."

Evidently he was not following the same classical world theme and based on his tones the copper blonde stowed his factoid and instead let a hint of sympathy creep in as he watched the older man lose himself very briefly in what seemed to be a world of bitter regret. Dean paused for a moment then scratched awkwardly at his neckline before taking the plunge and trying empathy for once.

It was by no means easy, in fact it was embarrassing but he pressed on anyway –

Misgivings be damned.

"Look man, I mean we've all lost some cases, I totally had a thing with this big ass guy once, Brock Lesnar, real nasty fucker tried to push me off a rail bridge but – whatever – that isn't the point. _The point_ is that I beat myself up for a month about it but so what? Doesn't change shit. We're human we screw stuff up."

"Is this Brock Lesnar fucker out there killin' people?"

Dean shrugged,

"Probably, I mentioned he was the size of gorilla right? Bulky. Kinda like a horse in a costume."

Mark snorted briefly in what sounded like amusement and as much as he actually hated to admit it, Dean grinned on hearing the notes trickle out because maybe the veteran beside him wasn't _too_ bad if you put the muscling into their trio thing firmly to one side. Plus if nothing else then he certainly had the knowledge when it came serials killings of the strangling kind.

"So that's your big damn pep talk is it?"

Dean shrugged a little,

"Hey, take it or leave it man."

"Figure I should probably take it in that case, since I don't know how long this non-pissy streak of yours will last."

Dean turned his wristwatch over and studied it in response to the blunt but teasing little barb, before nodding his scruffy head in time to the second hand and counting back the numbers with a poorly hidden grin.

"Three, two, one – _bzzzz_ – time's up man, now get your ass the hell outta my car."

Mark turned his lips up and let loose a chuckle,

"Guess I walked right into that one."

"Head first."

In the silence that followed both of the men snorted mildly and then squinted in turn at a sudden beam of sun that had burst through the thick gloomy clouds up above them to sprinkle their car in a holy looking light and the timing of which was not lost on the veteran who sucked in a breath then blew it pensively back out,

"So then are we callin' a truce here or what son?"

"Depends," Dean shrugged blithely,

"Depends on what?"

"Is this show gonna be for one night only or are you lookin' to put the band together again?"

Blue eyes looked up and then locked on the veteran as the copper blonde double dog dared him to tell the truth and the answer to which potentially formed the lynchpin for the enmity that had been thick in the air since they had first met. Dean was prepared to work a one off case with him but the last thing he wanted was the guy _always_ being there or figuring that he maybe had retired too early and that a place on the super-secret special police taskforce was the one thing left out there that would cap off his long career.

Mark shook his head,

"Not this time, this is it kid, I've only stopped in to tie up loose ends then I'm back to takin' it easy again. I figure if I clear this up I can maybe get some rest at last and not have this thing always hangin' over me. So just as soon as I punch that bastard's ticket I'm gone."

"One night only then?"

"One night only."

Dean blew a breath out and settled back against the fabric as the words bounced back at him and filled up the space, feeling the tension lift up off his shoulders and the foundations of his world begin to slot back into place. Realistically perhaps it had been pretty fucking stupid to throw his toys out of the crib like he had, on the spurious notion that his teammates might replace him or that their snug little family might be infiltrated or broken up. In fact it almost made him feel borderline _cringeful_ about having been such a total fucking teenage girl but before he could muster that into a sentence he spotted a figure scurrying hurriedly their way.

"Ah crap."

"What?"

Dean gestured through the windshield and the veteran sat up and then squinted through the screen, blinking beyond the bright beams of sunlight and to a man who had to be seen to be believed and had to be met to be fully appreciated but even then still existed as an odd cheese-before-bed dream. Bo was sprinting up the sidewalk towards them with his thin strands of hair blowing back in the wind and two thickset guys following close behind him and yelling in decidedly unfriendly tones.

Mark looked across in bewilderment,

"You know this guy?"

"You will too in a minute."

Dean popped the door and then scrambled out and onto the concrete which he hit at a run as he headed towards the scene while mentally trying to make the decision on whether or not pulling out his firearm was a good idea. The men coming towards him weren't obviously carrying, unless they had guns stashed in their matching waistbands and so in the end he simply closed the distance towards them and then grabbed his fucking _hopeless_ informant by the hand,

"Bo."

"Detec – ,"

Dean cut him off swiftly and then pulled the grinning idiot round behind his back before turning himself towards to two incoming bodies that were short but bulky and looked less than impressed. Dean hissed over his shoulder hotly,

"What the hell have you done now?"

But before the wide-eyed puppy could answer his pursuers stopped short and shot across a glare, like they were no longer so sure of their chances in a beatdown considering the quarry had suddenly found a second man. They were both of them panting as if the chase had been a long one and both had varying amounts of facial hair with the one on the right sporting a full but well-trimmed face rug in opposition to his friend who had a handlebar moustache.

Both men narrowed sweat beaded eyes towards them and one of the meatheads pointed,

"This isn't your fight."

"What fight would that be?"

"Dallas has got business with us of the unfinished kind."

Dean cocked his head to the side like a labrador and then shook it a little like he wasn't buying that at all, before moving his fingers to rest by his hip bones which allowed him to lightly flap his leather jacket to the side and reveal the holster strapped to his belt loops.

"I got shitty news for y' fellers but he's got business with me first."

"Is that right?"

"'Fraid so, better get outta here."

For a second or two there was a moment of sizzling tension as the three men and whatever the hell Bo was technically classed as, stared at one another across the bright and sun kissed street and that likely could have gone in either direction until their attentions were drawn by the slow tread of feet.

Mark pulled up beside them,

"Is there a problem?"

He was so damn tall he almost blocked out the sun and he then took the liberty of cracking his knuckles so that noise cut across the empty sidewalk they were on. In short therefore he cut a pretty imposing figure and faced with not one but two men that were big the pursuers reluctantly and embarrassingly backed down from thrm, but not before pointing a finger across the concrete towards the puppy dog.

"This isn't over man."

Dean snorted,

"Whatever nineties movie you lifted _that_ from wants its line back."

He was flipped a swift bird in reply which made him form a smile that he kept in position until the two troublemakers had hauled themselves out of sight and at which point it slid swiftly straight back off his features in a twist towards his informant that he timed with a shout,

"What the hell was that?"

Bo blinked in confusion,

"You mean the men chasing me?"

"What did you do?"

For a second the quirky moron simply stared back brightly and then his eyes travelled towards their tall third man who he suddenly realized he hadn't said hello to and so he stepped around the copper blonde and extended a hand out,

"Hey there friend, I'm Bo."

Dean pinched his fingers harshly into his eyeballs and then squeezed them so hard that they physically hurt before watching Mark shake the clammy fingers in bewilderment like he couldn't work the long haired idiot out. Dean tried again in tones of growing tension,

"Bo, why were those men so pissed off at you?"

"Oh _that_ – I impregnated their sister."

"You did what?"

"I told a rival dealer she might be selling drugs on their patch."

Dean blew a breath out and then tried to resist the impulse to reach across the space and strangle the man to death, which given the current climate would probably have been distasteful but would likely have quelled some of his slowly building rage.

" _I_ _mplicated_."

"Huh?"

"You didn't _impregnate_ her."

"Yes I did, I told on her."

"Look forget it man there isn't enough time in the world to explain it so how about we all move on?"

"Okay then."

Mark was still staring in confusion at the informant like he had never met anybody like him before but which was potentially because he'd never been in an asylum which half the time was where Dean was convinced the younger man belonged. He sucked in a steadying breath and then held his hands up to give the hairbrained puppy something to physically focus on and then used the gesture to draw the gaze upwards until he managed to make the idiot lock eyes.

"Bo, we need your help."

"You can count on me detective."

"You don't know what it is yet."

"Oopsie, that's right."

Dean let his eyes fall shut very briefly but then reached into his pocket and fished a scrap of paper loose on which he had scribbled the words _sodium thiopental_ and which he unfolded to hold up before the lovable moron's eyes.

"I need you to keep your ear to the ground for me and see if anyone is trying to buy this."

"Goodness those are some very long words."

Mark fairly gently took over the reins at that point given that the copper blonde looked ready to blow and nodded his big head down at the youngster while mustering up a benign sort of smile that then turned into something halfway genuine as it was met with an all out beam in reply.

"That there's the name of a drug that makes people sleepy."

"Oh."

"There's a guy out there usin' it to do some pretty bad things so we want to stop him."

Bo nodded back keenly since he was never anything other than super happy to help and which would never not be weird since he was technically a criminal but an idiot one with a heart of gold whose bumbling had brought them many a titbit of useful information over the years and towards whom Dean couldn't help but feel protective when he wasn't feeling stressed or massively aggrieved.

"Don't you worry because Bo is on the case now."

Dean looked at the veteran,

"He speaks in third person if you hadn't guessed which is just one of many, many unique qualities."

Bo flapped the paper,

"Is – is that all?"

"Uh huh, you gonna be okay getting your ass back though what with havin' _impregnated_ that girl?"

"Oh yes,"

Dean was greeted with a nod of enthusiasm which flapped the fast thinning strands of hair around his neck and then somehow made him also feel evidently dizzy since the moron staggered a little before smiling back up and issuing a wave.

"Take care Bo."

He then skipped away from them as in he _actually_ adopted a full on girly skip that he carried off into the low winter sunlight and which eventually carried his prancing form from view at which point the big police veteran coughed a laugh out and then shook his head,

"He uh – ,"

"He gets good results, people say shit around him because he's an idiot but he remembers stuff well."

"Then I take it all back."

Dean blew a breath out then shook loose his shoulders by jerking them up until he heard the bones click before spinning his back towards the big black car they had abandoned with a relieved little sigh.

Thank god that bit was done.

* * *

 **Nothing like a bit of Bo to make a story start to swing, lol. Have I mentioned that I love my crazy ass version of that idiot? None of the Miztourage Bo, I want my moron!**

 **Next chapter we have some good old fashioned Shield bonding and a new development in the case...**


	4. Bluebird Is Dead

**Hey all, thank you so much again for your reviews and continued interest can't believe we're at chapter four already...doesn't time fly when we're all having fun?! New development in the case coming up in this installment but will it be good or bad?**

 **Minnie1015, Hey, look at you being all first on the review list! Yeah, couldn't resist bringing Bo back. I mean, who else is going to try to help them out? Haha. You can keep your eyes on whoever makes you happy, but I won't be saying anything either way!**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Aww, thanks you lovely personage you! I hope you enjoy this one, this was one of my favorite chapters to write because it's always so much easy when the guys are together bouncing off one another being big kids!**

 **LHisawesome4ever, I'm the same too. Even if the other person is lovely it takes me time to warm up to newcomers in my friendship groups! I figure Dean would be the same because he covets his brothers so much. Of course we would be grumpy rather than talking it through! He's a man!**

 **Mandy, Thank you, my mum just needs an operation now and then hopefully we'll be good to go! Glad you're happy that Bo blundered back in. I might be addicted to him, I can't seem to not try and put him into these somewhere. Lots of Seth in this one too.**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Well, in Bo's defence, impregnate and implicate do sound pretty similar...no, you're right, he's just an idiot! Oooh, glad I'm making it vague. I mean, I was hoping I was but it's good to hear it from you. Can't wait to read your guesses (and quietly cry if they're right first time!)**

 **Derick Lindsey, I think if it were anyone other than Bo then Dean would have murdered them a long time ago, but there's just something about Dallas I guess! There is some bonding in this one, but not with Mark, I figured Dean just needed some quality time with his boys! Hope you like it!**

 **Daisysakura, Bo totally needs protecting, frankly how he made it this far in life is a mystery! I figure he probably has lucky genes or something (because they ain't smart ones that's for sure). Dean has some fun in this one teasing the others about Mark, hopefully it makes you laugh!**

 **Skovko, Okay, I'm picturing you giving Bo a belly scratch and him doing the involuntary hind leg kicking out thing that dogs do. That's totally a Bo sort of move to pull right? He would also have his tongue lolling out because...well, because it's Bo so he just would!**

 **Kirrak, Yay! I'm glad you love Bo as much as I do. He's such a crazy little kook and he makes everything better...well, except for Dean. Mostly he tends to make things far worse for Dean, but on the plus side at least it's super fun to write and (I like to think) read as well. Bo for President!**

 **Cherry619, Heehee, Bo is just the kind of guy that lurches from one calamity to the next but I suppose on the plus side, he's usually doing it for the best of intentions! Heart of gold, IQ lower than the average room temperature, but that's the way we love him, right?!**

 **Rebel8954, I think even by Bo's standards incorrectly using the word impregnate in a sentence takes the cake! No wonder Mark thought the boy was mad! Yep, totally a delicate truce between them right now and you're not the only one who's cautious, since so are Seth and Roman as well...**

 **On we go then...**

* * *

 **Bluebird is Dead**

Mark headed home sometime early in the evening having decided that nine hours was a pretty solid first stint back and likely still reeling from his encounter with the informant whose entrance and personality had been the highlight of that. Or possibly the lowlight. It was kind of fifty-fifty but either way he had stood and stretched from his spot at the table, having taken the hint and given Dean his desk back, then cracked his spine and rubbed a hand across his stubble,

"Think I'm gonna have to call it a night."

Dean had blinked up from the light of his computer and been surprised to find the world outside lying thickly black and punctuated only by tiny orbs of starlight and the bright glow of the security light on the building opposite.

He had nodded,

"Uh, sure man, see you tomorrow?"

"Bright and early kid."

Roman and Seth had still been out but had left a half scrawled note of semi-explanation that they were heading to the crime scene to give the place a scope around but would be back in time to update him on their progress and so to that end Dean had decided it was best to stay put, relocating himself across to the sofa with a box of the old and vaguely watermarked case files. He wasn't sure when he had fallen asleep _precisely_ and nor was he even convinced that he had, but Roman shaking his shoulder seemed conclusive and so did his waking confusion,

"Uce?"

"Huh, wha – ,"

"Easy babe, whoa, just take it easy."

Dean blinked into the overhead lights that one of his returning teammates had flipped on again to counter the swirling black of the night and then took in the brown eyed expression smiling back at him,

"Wha' t'me is it?"

"'Bout a half past eight."

Pushing himself back up onto his forearms was a hell of a lot harder than he cared to admit and hardly seemed worth it since the act of becoming vertical screwed his equilibrium then set up a pounding in his head.

"Fuck."

"You alright?"

Roman was hunkered in low beside the cushions with a big elbow draped over the arm of the couch, because obviously the sight of the middle of his brothers crashed out and likely snoring had done things to his oversized fraternal heart.

"Yeah, m' good."

"We stopped and got pizza."

Dean grinned,

"My boy knows what I like, huh?"

He rolled off the couch in an inelegant little movement that landed him nearly face first on the floor but was luckily saved by the big man beside him who reached down and artfully plucked up his shirt and who then braced a big broad palm across his collarbone until the scruffy copper blonde had fully re-found his feet at which point he reached over and tousled the tangle with a chuckle of fondness,

"Nice and slow uce, nice and slow."

Seth had already set things up in the kitchen by the time the pair of them stumbled through into view, with the pizza boxes open and wafting out aromas and the caps popped from three icy cold beer bottles as well. Dean fell into a seat with a grumble that bordered on a weirdly orgasmic sort of sound, then launched for the nearest greasy slice of pepperoni before stuffing the thing wholesale into his mouth,

"You two know I love you for this, right?"

Fragments of stuffed crust flew out as he spoke but were then replaced rapidly by another bite of pizza as the copper blonde ate like he had recently been starved. Seth wrinkled his nose and used the cuff of his jacket to brush some of the mildly chewed pieces off the edge then looked up with a predictable measure of unhappiness as he took a seat opposite,

"Geez, say it don't spray it man."

In response to the disgust Dean opened his mouth pointedly in a petty manoeuvre that revealed the contents inside and which made the younger man turn away revolted with a hiss of frustration,

"Damn it man, you're such a child."

Roman swept a beer up and chuckled,

"Play nice now."

But in spite of the fierce teasing the general mood was good and the exact sort of feeling that Dean had been protecting when he had thought their veteran cohort was muscling in on their turf and trying to turn his family into _his_ thing which would never be okay –

He liked shit the way it was.

Not that he was totally alone in his thinking on the _veteran_ side of things that was, since Roman swept his big brown eyes lazily around the office then looked back slowly like he was trying to sound cool,

"Mark get off alright?"

Dean gazed back at him,

"No, I beat him over the head with the microwave an' buried him under the floorboards over there. You know that one that squeaks when you go over it? Yeah, well, it doesn't squeak anymore."

Roman snorted,

"Nah, I'm not buying it, no way would you have gotten the place this clean, this fast. Besides uce, I've seen your apartment remember and while you've got talents, housekeeping ain't one."

"Hey, low blow man, that's it, I want my key back."

"Never had one in the first place."

"An' yet you wonder why?"

Dean reached out across the pizza boxes beaming then swiped up the nearest untouched bottle of beer, which he used to chase down the cheese and meat concoction that was slowly beginning to bring him back to life and which was also in the process of making him realize that he had missed out on breakfast since they had left the diner in a rush and if he _really_ thought about properly he was pretty fucking certain that he had also totally forgotten to grab lunch.

Seth bit into a spinach covered thin slice,

"So what _did_ you do with him?"

Dean sat back in disgust and then pretended to be horribly offended as he flapped an overdramatic hand across the space,

"Dude, please. I mean, eatin' with your mouth open is pretty disgustin' – ,"

"Real funny man."

But since Roman chuckled and then shook his head a little, the copper blonde figured that it therefore likely was and so grinned in response before sobering just long enough to answer the question to which he also threw in a shrug,

"He took his big ass home 'bout three hours back, think meetin' Bo kinda freaked him out."

Seth snorted,

"I'm not surprised."

"So how was it babe?" Roman asked, interrupting as he slung a slice of pizza up into his mouth, "Working together out there with our houseguest?"

Dean paused,

"It was fine, not that I had a fuckin' _choice_."

"You manage to get somewhere?"

"With the case or each other?"

Because that was what the bigger man was clearly fishing for and had also evidently been the topic of conversation between the two of them in the hours since they'd been gone. Obviously they had hoped that throwing him together with the object of his enmity would straighten things out and frustratingly on that front they had been right in their assumptions which he actually kind of hated because it meant that he'd been conned.

Roman shrugged lightly back at him,

"Either."

"Bo's gonna try and source who's buyin' the drugs."

"Sounds like a plan."

"So what about you two? Find anythin' useful?"

Seth blew a breath out and then added another crust to the collection he was building with careful precision on the lid of the pizza box in an obvious attempt to keep his calorie count down and which was possibly the reason that his reply was so hot because _holy gods_ did the man ever need carbohydrates.

Possibly a woman too –

Yep.

Seth needed to get laid.

"Come on man, you know exactly what we're asking here. Are you and Calaway all cool now? Because this is gonna be pretty impossible if you're gonna spend the whole time sniping at his ass."

Dean grunted mildly,

"Relax okay? I fixed it."

"How?"

"We – I don't know – we talked about shit, we _cleared the air_ or whatever it is you're meant to do and based on it I've decided to stop actin' like a bitch," he paused to take a loose swig of beer from his bottle then looked up sarcastically, "You fuckin' happy now?"

Seth nodded,

"I guess, but I can't figure out why you were so against him, I mean the guy's a _hero_ who worked thirty four years and arrested over three hundred people in the process, how is that not impressive to you?"

Dean shrugged idly,

"You know where I grew up man, you think I'd still be here if my hero had been a cop? My ass would have been beaten up _,_ down and fuckin' _sideways_ every god damn day of my life. An' since I managed to get hit plenty anyway, extra black eyes were shit I tended to avoid."

Seth blinked,

"Dean – ,"

Both the men in front of him hated hearing the particulars of his crappy early life and felt the stories ridiculously keenly like it was somehow their fault or like they should have known or helped, regardless of the fact that they had moved in different circles and spent most of their lives being a literal year apart. His teammates felt like they should have been there anyway and in spite of the fact that his childhood memories hurt him his brothers being furious was a pretty warming thing, plus it powered a fierce stab of belonging and did a bunch of flippy things inside his otherwise cold heart.

He waved a hand,

"It's fine or whatever, the point is I just didn't see the big guy like you."

"So do you now?"

Dean paused,

"Maybe a little, but m' still gonna be happy to see the last of his ass and get things back to the way they fuckin' should be when it's just – like – the three of us an' no one else y' know?"

Seth cleared his throat then nodded,

"Yeah, we know man, we totally know."

Behind them the lights in the storage warehouse opposite flickered in their hangings and then briskly turned off as even the men working late on the dock fronts decided it was time to pack up and head home and which painted a strange sort of hush across the landscape that was actually pretty restful.

Peace and quiet for once.

Dean grabbed up another slice in the interim and then flicked a particularly ugly looking piece of olive off before tearing the tip away in one big snapping motion and then chewing open mouthed.

"Oh yeah, I looked that note thing up."

"What note thing?"

"The one our strangler fucker likes writin', the _sin at the door_ crap."

"Crouching," Roman put in, although as usual their younger brother was decidedly more forthright as he brushed off his hands on one of the napkins he'd plundered, but that so far had been the only person to use since his teammates preferred simply licking at their fingers or else wiping their greasy paws over the fabric of their pants.

"Well, where's it from man?"

"Genesis, Cain an' Abel."

Dean swiped an errant roundel of pepperoni up and then tossed it towards his mouth but missed catching the thing badly with a huff of frustration as it slapped back into the box.

Roman frowned,

"Biblical?"

"I mean it goes on for way longer, talkin' 'bout not givin' into sin an' that shit and how you have to become – like – it's master so I figure if nothin' else _my_ ass is covered on that front."

Roman snorted back at him,

"You got it on a leash uce,"

"Yep."

Seth however sat forward with a blink and then waved a crust of pizza in their direction like one of those white pointers professors used to teach kids.

"So what does it mean?"

He was looking to their big man, who was by far and away the most religious of their gang since he had been raised in a good observant household, whereas his brothers were either clueless or practising atheist.

Roman thought for a second,

"Cain and Abel? Uh, best I can remember they were brothers who turned their backs, older one let his jealousy of the younger take over and killed him for it."

"So why choose that line?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, what exactly is this guy trying to tell us by sayin' it?"

Dean shrugged,

"Why does it have to be anythin' at all? I mean, maybe he knows by puttin' it up there we'll have to bust our humps tryin' a' figure it out. For all we know he might a' fired up his computer and typed _creepy ass sentences_ into the search, then all he needs to do is click on a button an' hey presto his killer schtick is all worked out."

Roman smiled mildly,

"I'm not sure that's it uce."

"Why not?"

"Because – ,"

"Did you know they had computers back then?"

Based on their reactions they obviously had done because his brothers simply blinked in bewilderment at him, like the question was the craziest piece of shit he had ever put to them but in the grand scheme of things wasn't really even close, since he had once asked if vegetarians could have animal crackers and meant every word of it.

Dean took a quick chug,

"How 'bout you two then? Don't leave me hangin'."

He meant had they found anything of note at the crime scene and the fact that neither man had to ask him to clarify was one more reminder of how close they all were, or else how attuned they were to the way his mind worked, which in essence was pretty much exactly the same thing and made him grin a little like an idiot as his younger brother grunted,

"Except the entire city's press hanging around like god damn vultures?"

Roman sighed and then sat himself back,

"Didn't find anything that's going to help us, but I figure we got a feel for how the guy works, he likes to choose places that are real run down and lonely so no one will – ,"

 _Hear_.

Roman didn't say the word but then again he didn't really need to say it since the knowledge of it shuddered in an instant through them all, along with the thought of the poor helpless victims struggling while a pillow was placed over their face.

Seth growled,

"Fuck, we need to get this asshole."

He pushed at the pile of newly empty pizza boxes and then pulled loose a slightly crumpled up looking snapshot, which had been stuffed into the pocket of the thick winter jacket that at some point he had flung over the back of his seat. He took a second to smooth out the creases and then nudged it across the table top out towards Dean, who hauled it in closer frowning a little and then looking up cluelessly,

"Okay, so who's this?"

Roman sighed,

"The second victim."

Dean made an understanding o-shape with his mouth and then grit his teeth a little in frustration as the face of _anothe_ r young woman stared back, grinning in some snap from what was probably a party since her brown skin was glowing with the familiar flush of drink and her wavy long toffee hair looked a little dishevelled as if she had been headbanging on some crowded dance floor happily somewhere.

Roman filled the blanks in further,

"Alicia Fox a thirty one year old dancer, been working here for the last two months, her boss called the police when she missed work two days running and they couldn't get an answer."

Dean blinked,

"Same deal as before?"

"Still waiting on the autopsy report but they think so, since he even used that same freaking god damn red cord, but the police on the scene couldn't find any compression marks, so she sure wasn't strangled."

"So then what the hell is the point?"

Dean wasn't simply asking because he was baffled, but instead because there had to be a reason behind it all and in their line of work and as a crime-fighting taskforce, they had learnt they did their best work when bouncing ideas around and pooling their collective resources and brain power into a big sort of policeman style thoughtful melting pot.

"Isn't it obvious?" Seth snorted back hotly, "He's trying to relive the glory years again."

"Then why does it feel like he's tryin' to say somethin'?"

"Because he's an asshole?"

Dean stopped and scratched his neck, in a sure fire gesture that his head space was spinning but the reason for which he couldn't really figure out, like there was something in the case and the quote and the method that was giving them a message that they should have understood, but which passed right on over them and then just kept going in the swirls of serial killings and returning veteran cops.

He frowned and the look was so thoughtfully folded that it made his older brother blink,

"What's going on up there?"

He lifted his bottle and then used it to gesture lightly towards the unusually cluttered up head and the brain toiling hard beneath the copper blonde tangle like some sort of workhorse towing a plough.

Dean shook his head,

"Nothin' I just think that maybe – ,"

But he was swiftly interrupted by a sudden harsh noise, which sounded a lot like something vibrating but was then hurriedly followed by a cackling laugh and the swoop of what was supposedly meant to be a broomstick from the loud but tinny speakers of his cell phone.

He groaned,

"Crap."

Commissioner Stephanie McMahon was calling him, which was either a good or a very bad sign and was also the reason that he had drunkenly set her ringtone to the sound of an evil witch sailing through the sky, which Seth and Roman had goaded him into and which had quite frankly been fucking hilarious at the time, but had then backfired dramatically in public when it had frightened several people by going off in a crowd.

It beat being frightened by the real thing however –

He probably still needed to change it up though.

Dean climbed to his feet with a pensive little grumble then waved his totally bewildered seeming hands, in a baffled appeal for a general direction since he rarely had any clue where his errant phone was. Seth pointed back into the blackness with an eye roll,

"I don't know, how about you try your desk man?"

Fumbling his way from the brightness of the kitchen he crossed the dark office squinting into the gloom, then zeroed himself in on the angry sounding buzzing noise and shunted off a few papers before –

He held it up with an _aha_.

In the exact same moment that he hit the call button, he spun towards his brothers so they could both see his face and therefore potentially keep tabs on what was happening based on his reaction or else the look of horror on his face. He started things out cheerily enough to begin with however, possibly because he was full of pizza and beer,

"Boss, how can I – ,"

Her sneer pinged back at him,

" _I need you three at the corner of Hart and Michaels_."

"Care to tell me why?"

" _They found another one._ "

"What?"

" _Mark is on his way over already_."

"But – ,"

" _Ambrose, no arguing this time, get there now_."

By way of a farewell she cut the call off again, but the copper blonde kept the cell to his ear for a while as he tried to somehow process the information but fast lost the ability to put it into words. Instead he slid the cell back into his pocket then reached over to swipe his trusty leather jacket up, before blowing a sigh out and then turning blue eyes towards them,

"Look sharp boys, this night ain't fuckin' done."

* * *

 **Dun dun duuuunnnn….**

 **The killer strikes again. Next chapter we're off to the crime scene for some gruesome stuff, hopefully I'll see you all there!**


	5. Queen Of The Hours

**Okay, so in this one we have a whole lot happening but most importantly we get the boys putting their policeman hats on (not literally because they're plain clothes and everything but I'll leave you with the visual of that nonetheless!)**

 **Mandy, I figure that Seth would be exactly the kind of person who would somehow find a way to not fully indulge, plus he has to keep that body trim somehow! Glad you like seeing Dean grow in these stories. His boys have totally brought him back from the brink!**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Yep, that was a total yikes moment but I love to end on a cliffhanger as you know. I think this chapter might be another yikes moment too because it's kind of a bit more gruesome than the rest of them. Hope you like it nevertheless!**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Haha, I'm glad you're taking everything in but you know I'm not going to give you freebie clues up here right? Nope. I'm gonna make you read. Hints be everywhere! Oh and bless little baby Dean being all protective and grumpy. He's too freaking cute to write like that!**

 **Minnie1015, Sneaky? That might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me, lol! To be honest this is probably my sneakiest story ever and I'm totally looking forward to when I can finally reveal, but until then I'll just have to keep making you all guess things!**

 **Raze Olympus, Aha, got a clue already huh? Sorry, but my lips are sealed because I'm gonna string these clues out for as long as I can! But in the meantime I offer you a very sombre crime scene in exchange for not being able to tell you anything else!**

 **Skovko, Um, well, I'm not entirely sure what kind of a story you can create around Dean killing Mark with a microwave, but if it gets your creative juices flowing them I humbly offer you the image to use however you wish (it probably shouldn't have, but it made me laugh too!)**

 **Cherry619, Well of course Dean would have drunkenly changed Steph's ringtone to a witch cackle! Problem will be though that he won't be able to change is back because he's hopeless with technology. Hopefully brother Seth will help him out (or put something worse on instead!)**

 **Irishfan62, Maybe red herrings...maybe not...this story still has a few chapters to go before we start to get to the first answers, so you may want to switch your guess up before then or stick with it. I could tell you the truth, but then I'd have to...um...kill myself so probably best I don't!**

 **Jcott3, Hello there *waves* nice to have you aboard and thank you for the recommendation. Yep, body number three turns up here (I apologize in advance to the divas roster because I am pretty much taking them out one by one!) Like your guess, but not saying anything because I'm mean!**

 **HannonsPen, Yay, welcome to the party! Sorry to give you one more thing to read! But now you get to take your pick between cop Dean and romantic Dean! Oh and in answer to your question, my head gets a little dark sometimes, but only in the literary sense!**

 **Daisysakura, Ooh, decisions decisions, well, I don't know if it's going to help or not but there will definitely be cliffhangers involved in this story. More than one (but you won't get anymore out of me than that!) I love sweet moments between the boys, so expect more of those too!**

 **Kirrak, Aww, thank you, that's a real compliment. I cannot help but write things all wordy but I'm glad that my ramblings help to paint a vivid picture rather than bore you! Injured Dean? Hmmm. Now whatever would give you that idea? *Walks off whistling to self***

 **Lets duck beneath the police tape then...**

* * *

 **Queen of the Hours**

Roman had been right in explaining the locations their unrepentant killer seemed to like to hang out in, since the building they drove up to was large and ramshackle, with shattered glass in the window fittings and weeds sprouting from the ground. Once upon a time it would have been a hive of industry and would probably have been filled with burly working class men, but at some point the place had been left to rot and fester.

Not to mention moonlight as a murderer's lair.

By the time they arrived the cops were already swarming and the flash of blue lights was blazing bright into the sky, painting the stark brick walls with lurid colors as uniformed figures rolled out lengths of official tape and tried to hold back the slowly growing crowd of locals who had lumbered from their couches to try and get the inside scoop.

Dean snorted,

"Real sense of community spirit huh?"

He could see several residents clamped to their phones and probably trying to tip off the papers that something big was going down and therefore earn themselves a pretty little packet in exchange for the information.

Seth shoved at one,

"Watch it man."

Making it through the rubbernecking cluster they arrived at the fluttering line of _do not cross_ tape, which Dean bent under while freeing his police badge to hold up before the nearest guarding officer's face. In response the cop who had been moving towards them with a frown that had swallowed near enough his whole brow, lifted the barrier with a nod of acceptance then waved an unclear hand towards an alley,

"It's that way."

Not that he needed to say it in the first place since the space beside the building was buzzing with cops, bustling backwards and forwards through the blackness and holding plastic bags of evidence or making radio calls.

Dean smiled back at the guy sarcastically,

"No shit man, thanks for the heads up."

Roman gave him a prod with his forearm and pushed him forward before the barb could filter though and together the three of them passed beneath the streetlights and through the press of officers back into the semi-gloom. Halfway along a narrow little alley that ran between the buildings there was a propped open door and since it was where the bulk of the police were, they turned and followed the blue shirts through it and then up a dusty and very creaky sounding staircase towards a loft where the murmuring of voices was coming from.

"Boss?"

Mark was stood in the centre with Stephanie, beside a sheet covered body but when Dean spoke she looked up and her haunted looking gaze seemed to soften a little as she took in the figures that comprised her best men.

Her voice however, seemed less pleased to see them.

"You're late."

Seth groaned,

"Come on, not this again, we're here okay?"

Dean strode past and dropped into a squat beside the body before pulling one corner of the covering sheet up and fighting back the roll that took over his stomach at the sight of the poor kid lying underneath. In terms of looks she was similar to the first one, with pale youthful features and bleached blonde long dyed locks and based on her clothes and the false lashes and make-up, she had obviously been out having harmless fun when she'd been nabbed.

He could see the red cording wrapped around her neckline and could tell that like the others it hadn't been pulled tight and so therefore had clearly been added post mortem for whatever the hell point the guy was trying to make.

Behind her on the chipped and cracked wall of the building the same eerie message had been smeared in red paint and had been daubed on so thickly it had started to trickle until the ends of each word ran and bled towards the floor. Lines of the stuff had even hit the floorboards and begun to snake a path towards the girl which made the scene even _more_ gruesome than it had been and also made him curl his fists up.

Roman joined him,

"God damn this guy uce."

Dean figured it was probably even harder for the big man since he was the father to a cute as a button baby girl, who would one day grow into a beautiful young woman and therefore be perfect fodder for the villains of the world.

Mark cleared his throat,

"Found a wallet tucked in her pocket, so we got a name, Liv Morgan, the poor kid was twenty three, worked in a diner a couple of blocks away from here, uniform are going round to break the news to the family now."

Dean didn't envy the guys who had that task at all.

Back when he had been a low level beat cop, that part of the work had been the hardest to take on, because no matter how much training or how many courses he had been on, he had never really managed to make the task remotely okay and had never really found the right way of telling people that their precious baby was dead and gone. It had been bad enough when it had been some traffic collision or one of those out of the blue mundane things, but having to pass on that a person had been _murdered_ was impossibly tough.

He was happy those days were gone.

Seth leant in over them,

"No signs of a struggle so I'm guessing that means he shot this one up as well?"

He was right on that point since her hands carried no scratch marks or the bruising associated with having fought someone off and so at least the end seemed to have been peaceful with the exception of the whole fucking murdering thing.

Dean jerked his shoulders in an unconscious little movement,

"We know how he did it yet?"

It was his boss that fired back, stepping towards them with her arms loosely folded and the tight, high ponytail swinging around her neck. Her boot heels clicked loudly on the floorboards then echoed and the noise made her wince like it was a disrespectful thing, but her response remained characteristically no-nonsense and low on hyperbole.

"Intravenous, he injected them,"

Mark offered more,

"Seems he likes to creep up behind 'em and stab 'em in the neck when they ain't lookin' his way, he probably hangs out round bars to find the wasted ones and then follows 'em until he can strike someplace like this. I mean at least that's what _I_ would probably do in his place."

Stephanie smiled wryly,

"Well then I'm glad you're on our side."

Dean rolled his eyes but then was luckily interrupted by the sound of plastic fabrics rustling from behind and which were then swiftly followed by the forensics team arriving fully clad in their coveralls and ready to hit the ground.

"Over here gentlemen," Stephanie announced pointlessly, considering the victim was pretty easy to pick out, "Thank you for coming on such short notice, especially given that it's getting a little late."

Seth grunted quietly,

"Yet she chews out _our_ asses? We were here way before these guys were."

Dean shrugged,

"Maybe she needs to pick a human sacrifice,"

"What?"

"Y' know, to appease her voodoo gods?"

Mark chuckled softly from his spot to the side of them and the copper blonde vaguely realized that the bigger man could hear and was laughing at their familiar but quirky sounding chatter, that from the outside looking in must have seemed a little weird. It was the way the three of them had always been together though and the type of repartee that underpinned their fractious world, not to mention the thing they had restored before all others in the putting back together of their family and brotherhood.

Stephanie brushed past them, still shepherding forensics,

"We'll let you work and get out of your hair."

Based on the look their boss also threw at them, she too had heard every word of the exchange but had taken the teasing with far less humor since her funny bone was hard enough to trigger at the best of times and the thought of which made Dean grin back broadly because pissing off their fiery overlord was so much fucking _fun_.

Forensics seemed to consist of three silent men in total, or women since with their hoods up it was pretty hard to tell, but either way them laying out their tools and plastic sheeting seemed to be an unspoken trigger to get out and so as Stephanie stepped briskly with a heel click towards the staircase, her taskforce and the veteran trailed after her in tow and trudged in an obedient little line out of the building and back into the cold and whipping night air.

Seth wasted no time,

"So what are we thinking? Does this bring us any closer to having a type for the guy?"

Roman snorted briskly,

"Yeah, women."

"I mean _beyond_ that."

Dean rolled his shoulders out then shook his head with a sigh,

"He wants 'em good an' drunk, or not lookin' behind 'em so he can sneak up like a ninja and take the poor kids down, figure he chooses women 'cos they're weaker than he is or maybe he has a bad relationship with his mom, or some shitty ex-wife he's givin' too much alimony to and he's takin' his frustrations out on anyone with long hair, or breasts or high heels or – I don't know – whatever?"

Mark glowered,

"Oh this guy's bad with women alright, but that doesn't mean that _all_ killers are misogynists."

Dean barked,

"Dude did you take psych one-oh-one at the academy? I mean that was pretty much the first lesson right there, 'bout how guys that hunt down girls are – like – compensatin' for somethin'."

"Somethin' like what?"

"Small penis size I guess."

Stephanie coughed a startled sounding interruption that broke through the darkness a little like a bomb and made the two remaining teammates grin widely because their copper blonde being forthright was among their favorites things, plus it threw a momentary lightness on proceedings that honestly everybody there could have used, since the air around them felt unsettled and heavy and burnt into their souls like a laser through the gloom.

Stephanie brought things back again swiftly,

"So, what have boys you discovered so far?"

"Dean has got somebody hunting for the drug," Roman offered, his voice rumbling down the alley, "He also found out where that wall quote comes from, it's a passage from the bible and the story of Cain and Abel, it's about mastering sin."

Mark grunted,

"Genesis, huh?"

Seth looked back in surprise or else in wonder, since everything the veteran did filled him with awe, potentially including even wiping his own ass crack, which was a premise that Dean was working on but still couldn't say for sure.

"You know it man?"

"Sure," Mark nodded in response to him, "Went to church every week growin' up. Me and my half-brother used to get all dressed up for it. I went to a super religious school too, Paul Bearer High."

"Wow.

Seth sounded so completely astonished that his copper blonde brother couldn't help but bust a laugh out, which then earned him a glare that promised such trouble that it seemed like there might be a second brutal murder to compliment the one they already had upstairs.

Mark of all people swooped in to his rescue,

"But what's worryin' me right now is the fact he's speedin' up, I mean two in two nights?"

Roman sighed,

"Yeah, he's fracturing."

Stephanie frowned,

"But isn't that a good thing? Don't we _want_ him to make a mistake and leave a breakthrough?"

"Not if it means him going through more girls."

Roman was as usual all about the victims with the potential for more women to be hauled into the fray and which suited his big old teddy bear persona not to mention his fucking knight-in-shining-armor thing.

Dean blew out a breath,

"Plus it means he's – like – _unpredictable_ , which makes shit harder because what we thought we knew has changed so his ass will be ten times more difficult to track now 'cos not even he knows what he's gonna do next."

Stephanie folded her arms across her pant suit,

"You mean you can't predict that?"

"M' not a clairvoyant here."

Her brows raised back at him both humorous and unhappy,

"Are you not?"

"Couldn't you get one of your coven help us out?"

Dean grinned broadly but their spark was interrupted by the veteran shifting and then wincing a touch, like his legs were starting to seize up in the bitterness and which considering his limp they probably were. Dean hadn't asked why the big man seemed to hobble, but assumed it was from having hunted down the villains of old and so couldn't help but wonder if he was staring at his own fate in some twenty years' time.

Stephanie sucked in a breath,

"So how do you want to go forward from this point?"

For a moment there was silence because nobody fucking knew and it hurt like a bitch since it meant they were no better in any real terms than the first go around and were scratching for clues like their predecessors had been and whose failures the academy had made a point of spelling out.

Mark shook his head,

"I'm open to ideas here."

Dean rubbed his shoulder with the heel of one hand and then traced the fingers up to scratch at his throat rapidly in what was a totally unconscious little mime, but which the elder of his brothers noticed immediately since he levelled brown eyes across the space with a frown,

"Hey, you got a plan uce?"

"Maybe."

"Then lay it on us."

"I was thinkin' that we could try an' maybe bring his ass out – like – get him into the open in some way?"

"How?"

Dean grunted and then waved his hands around,

"I figure we put out a page in the papers with his quote at the top but – like – nothin' else, then we have a number at the bottom so he can call us and wait an' see if the fucker gets in touch."

Mark frowned a little,

"Why would he want to?"

Evidently they were back to psychology class again and in spite of the fact that when he'd been in high school, he barely remembered a single lesson he'd had, the things he had learnt in the academy were stuck firmly and clearly none more so than the inner workings of killer men.

"Because he's puttin' on a show here an' nobody's seein' it."

Seth picked up the rest,

"Except for us."

"Which _means_ he'll probably wanna call and gloat about it or some shit like that."

Mark grunted,

"I see."

He looked like he was still trying to process the logic but didn't condemn it which was a pretty hopeful sign and clearly the more he thought about the option, the more the veteran liked it since he started to nod, slowly at first but then with a growing fervour until his mind was made up,

"Well, I guess anything's worth a shot."

Dean blinked back,

"Uh – ,"

Not the world's best endorsement but he would take it all the same and so turned to their boss and the pinched face expression which implied that she was thinking and likely mulling over the potential legal pitfalls or hazards and logistics like only she could.

It took a few seconds but finally she nodded,

"Then let's try it and see if our guy wants to bite."

Dean grinned a little in response to the outcome because he actually felt childishly proud of his idea, beyond which he still had the niggling feeling that there was something about the killer that was begging for help and while he had no fucking clue _why_ he thought that, he couldn't deny that the instinct was strong and the reason he had also suggested the phone thing since it would let whoever picked up try and build a rapport.

Seth nodded back,

"We'll set up a rota – make sure that there's always an ass by the phone."

Stephanie concurred,

"I'll use my media contacts to make sure it gets into the papers by dawn since the sooner we get this thing started the better and especially if you think our man is beginning to break down."

"Mentally," Roman offered, "No question."

Her hand was already clamped tight to her phone like she was going to start hashing out the details to the editors while the four of them were still there standing around and which she probably would have had footsteps not stopped her and then made everyone suddenly tense up. Behind them several cops were flanking a wheeled trolley that they were getting into place to use to take the bloodied body off and the memory of the scene and the poor helpless victim drove a knife though their hearts in a collective sort of stab.

Stephanie blinked then turned fiercely towards them,

"Let's get this son a bitch."

"On it boss."

In response to the confident reply of their youngest, their employer issued a final half a nod and then turned to start firing off calls to the papers or possibly the anger therapist she kept on the books. Her purposeful path led her back into the building in what was obviously a need to take change of the thing and while those working up there would probably resent it, her departure meant that _they_ at least were free to carry on.

Roman rubbed a hand across his face,

"Back to the warehouse?"

Mark shook his head,

"Hey now you boys need some rest, you won't be much good if you're dead on your feet here, besides, you heard what the woman just said, that note of ours won't hit the papers 'til the morning, so there's nothin' that any of our asses can do 'bout it 'til then."

"You sure man?"

Blue bandana folds nodded,

"Get home, feel more human, get yourselves charged up again because if this plan you got here comes together, then I'm sure gonna need you three feelin' refreshed."

Dean grunted wearily.

Mark made a valid point.

Besides which he could hear his own bedsheets calling out and beckoning him back into their comforting embrace again, like some weird hallucination likely caused by lack of sleeping but which he didn't really mind since the image was a nice one and he wanted it badly.

Nor was he the only one.

Roman glanced around at his brothers for the consensus and received it in the form of two understanding nods, the silence of which seemed to bypass the veteran but was simply another way their team didn't need words.

"Alright then, looks like we'll pick this back up in the morning."

Mark smiled broadly,

"You're makin' the right choice."

Behind them the scene was still busy with officers but together they turned and headed back for the truck, pulling the folds of their jackets in tighter as their necks were assaulted by the bitterly cold wind and the ferocity of which seemed even more brutal for the fact that it had likely hounded their victim towards her death.

Mark however seemed a little more buoyant,

"This weekend you guys should come visit my place, I can lay on some beers and get the barbecue goin' and we can make a conscious effort to forget all this shit and be real people for an hour, what d' ya say boys?"

Seth almost fucking fell over himself,

"Cool, yeah."

Dean snorted,

"Cool?"

He received another glare but the threat buried in it was lost pretty rapidly as they stepped from the shadows and into a media scrum that made all four of them blink in astonishment which their copper blonde member was the first to put into words,

"Where the fuck did these guys all come from?"

Roman shook his head in bewilderment,

"Damn."

In the time it had taken for them to check out the crime scene and decide a plan of action the press had arrived and not just in the form of a few local reporters but with cameras and trucks and whistles and bells. The officer who had first let them through a little earlier was still stood on guard but he'd been joined by several more in an attempt to hold back the tide of eager reporters that were straining against the tape like hormonal teenagers outside a concert venue waiting for their favorite band.

Seth grumbled,

"Ah shit."

Media was their enemy in terms of them being a secret taskforce and so instinctively the three of them turned their faces from the cameras and tried to slink past the noisy melee. Most times it worked because they didn't look special and were stern faced enough that people tried not to piss them off, but what they had all forgotten in the moment was the fact that they had with them a _not_ so incognito fourth man whose lumbering presence set the crowd almost wild in a hail of shouting,

" _Detective Calaway_ , _Mark_ – ,"

" _Is there a reason the city has brought you back for this case_?"

" _Does this mean the new killings are by the same guy_?"

" _Are you any closer to finding a suspect_?"

For the most part he managed to soldier on pretty well, staunchly ignoring the impromptu fucking conference and staring straight ahead as they made their escape. Not that Dean figured he should have been surprised by it since the veteran had likely been through it all before, given that he had been by the far the most visible and highly respected man on the original strangling case.

In fact he seemed like he could have cared less about it.

Briefly at least.

"How does it feel to fail again?"

In response to the question even the media scrum hushed slightly as all eyes fell on the reporter that had asked, who happened to be a short blonde haired woman who tensed just a little but otherwise remained firm. In fact Dean would probably have even admired her were it not for the fact that her question had hit a nerve, because the next thing he knew Mark was storming towards her and with a look that would have sent most people running for the hills. Even the cameraman shrank back a fraction and the blonde woman flinched as the veteran came in close, leaning right into her face and then bellowing with a furious anger,

"You wanna try that one more time?"

Seth stepped forward,

"Easy man – ,"

But it was useless, because the long standing policeman was on some sort of a roll and his face had turned into a palette of angry colors and twisted up in a hatred that they hadn't seen before and was pretty unsettling but couldn't be tempered since the big guy in question carried right on, reaching a crescendo until everyone was listening and making it clear exactly where he stood.

"I'm gonna find this bastard and then I'm gonna end him. Do you hear me asshole? You're a walking dead man."

* * *

 **Next chapter we find out some more about Mark and Dean finds something out that throws him for a loop. You know where to come in three days time...**


	6. Look At Me Now

**I think we will call this chapter the calm before the storm because...um, well...it's the calm before the storm. All hell is breaking loose from the next chapter so I'm taking this opportunity to fill in a few more details before we launch into this baby for real! I really like this installment so I hope you do too!**

 **Sodapop25, First review again as (nearly) always! I love how you're always so near to the top, but mostly I'm just glad you're enjoying my stories, both the romance and the more bloodthirsty ones!**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Aww, thank you! No more gruesome chapters for a little while now but I the next few are going to be pretty darn wild, so take a breather here and then strap yourself in tightly because as usual I'm going to be pretty mean to our boys!**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Oooh! I've spent so long trolling you about, my hidden hints and clues and now you're turning it back on me by hinting at your theory but not telling me what it is! Haha. On the plus side, I'm glad you're following so closely. Maybe a few clues in this one too...or maybe not!**

 **Cheryl24, Hmmm, well, I'm afraid I cannot confirm or deny anything at this point because I'm mean, plus who doesn't love a good air of mystery?! LOTS of clues coming in the next chapter so feel free to hold off making any decisions about who the killer is until we get to that point!**

 **Mandy, Dean is a rockstar isn't he? With his cool attitude to life and that leather jacket of his! Maybe I put him in the wrong AU and they should have be in a metal band instead? Lol. Just kidding, I think I'll stick with the police thing a bit more!**

 **Derick Lindsey, Actually the blonde reporter gets away with this one, but only because the killer has other things to think about...not telling what those things are going to be though! Stay tuned for more hints and drama coming, especially next chapter and beyond. So happy you're liking it!**

 **Minnie1015, Haha, I love watching your mind hard at work! I'm totally not going easy on anyone in this story in terms of clues or answers. I kind of want sort of a big reveal, although I'm sure most people will have guessed by the time we get there. Still, the suspense is good I guess?!**

 **Jcott3, Dean and Steph's relationship is my guilty pleasure to write! Vince and Steph are in the first two stories in this AU verse (this is the third) and all of them are in and out of my one shot series set in this universe too (The Shield Reunited, The Shield Undivided and The Shield Unscripted).**

 **Skovko, Haha, sorry, I think I wrote these parts before Ronda had joined so she kinda gets through this scott free. Whoops. Maybe I can appease you in a oneshot or something?! I had to throw dead man walking in at some point right? Also, need to show some love to Paul Bearer too!**

 **Daisysakura, Your three day wait is finally up! Being flippant in horrible situations seems to be TV Dean's way in life and so naturally I felt like it was a perfect fit for jaded long-time policeman Dean too! I think Stephanie might be the only one who doesn't like it...what does she know huh?!**

 **Cherry619, Haha, Dean is like one of those kids that says he doesn't want to join in with something to make a point, but that you can see watching the other kids having fun until he can't take it anymore and has to come running in. We see you Dean, being all cute and needy!**

 **Rebel8954, Haha, suspicion is good and I'm going to keep on feeding it until the real answers come out, so you'll have to keep your magnifying glass and deerstalker hat out a little bit longer I'm afraid! Lots coming next chapter...or this chapter...who knows? (I'm so mean!)**

 **Calm before the storm then...**

* * *

 **Look At Me Now**

Mark had bought a plot of land high above the city in the hills that encircled the south side of their town and glowered like sentinels in earthy tones of copper and which were peppered by trees and patches of brittle scrubland.

In terms of a location it was right in the middle of where the rich and famous tended to buy themselves homes and so the road to his place somewhere midway up the hillside had been filled by big white houses with wrought iron gates.

Dean had watched them slide past wryly before biting a snort out,

"Fuck, she would have loved this."

Neither of his teammates had needed to ask who _she_ was and nor had they needed to ask him why, because his poor lost fiancée had been a sucker for the tabloids and who was dating who and where they lived and how. It had hardly been the best of her many lovable features, but like everything else he'd missed it fiercely since she'd been gone and so therefore, in the knowledge that spying on the rich of their city would have kept her happy he drank in every house and tried to memorize the specific lavish features so that maybe he could tell her all about it later on.

He often chattered to her when he was lying in bed at night.

Probably best not to share that crazy titbit around though.

In total it had been three days since the last murder and therefore two and a half since their newspaper notice had gone out, obliquely appealing for their killer to call them but not wanting it to be obvious to anyone else.

Seth turned around as they wound up the hillside,

"You got the phone, right?"

Dean patted his pocket,

"Yep."

In order that one of them would always be present, the number they had given was to a burner phone that their younger man had drawn up a rota for carrying but which so far had mostly spent its time with the irascible copper blonde. Dean wasn't sure why he was so obsessed with keeping it but figured that it was probably because the thing was his idea and he didn't want his brothers to have to bear the first phone call, since talking to a murderer would be no easy deal.

"You got it on vibrate?"

"I got it on everythin'."

No way in hell would he miss the fucking call and evidently feeling put newly at ease by the assurances, Seth turned back to the directions.

"Take a left."

Pulling off the road lead them onto loose chippings and then along a bumpy and twisted little track, before finally landing them in front of a building that was only partly built but already looked big.

Dean grunted,

"Wow."

Evidently their veteran hadn't done too badly from the city police pension scheme, or else had possibly robbed a bank at some point, but either way seemed to be doing pretty well financially and to further that assumption the man himself stepped into view.

"Boys," he yelled from the steps of the trailer he had rented to oversee the main building phase, "Glad you could make it, I'm chillin' us some cold ones and I've got the barbecue already fired up."

Seth beamed,

"Great man."

He greeted them all with hand shakes and back pats while letting them stop to breathe in the view, before chuckling wryly at their impressed looking faces and gesturing with a beer can,

"Pretty special am I right?"

Dean tipped his head,

"How the fuck can you afford this?"

Roman coughed and then shunted him hard in the spine which possibly even nudged loose a crucial vertebrae as he then laughed in what sounded like apologetic tones,

"Don't mind his ass, he ain't used to bein' around people."

"Yeah," Dean threw back, "Because you guys don't count."

Mark chuckled broadly in response to the teasing so the copper blonde figured he wasn't too hurt by the faux pas, which wasn't really even especially rude by his standards since it seemed like a pretty straightforward thing to want to ask.

"Here you go boys,"

Mark dipped his hand into a cooler then tossed them each a can of ice cold beer across the space, before turning his attentions to a lightly smoking barbecue that he was clearly stoking up ready to take a few prime steaks. There were four lounge chairs set up beside the trailer and each of them pointed at the city view beyond in the ultimate outdoorsy sort of male get together that Dean would have taken any day over a club.

He always had been a lover of nature and wilderness.

Mark put down his grilling fork then took another swig of his glistening beer which he finished off by smacking his lips together noisily and looking up with a smile,

"Want a tour of the place?"

His house was probably about a quarter of the way completed, with the concrete bases poured but not a lot else, there were staircases too that lead up onto the first floor but only a total of about two and a half walls. It gave the whole structure the sort of vibe of a painting that Dean couldn't remember the title of to save his life, but was basically a whole load of steps going nowhere and flipped right around and that whole weird kind of shit.

Mark pointed vaguely at things that were non-existent,

"This is gonna be a big old kitchen right here, with folding doors openin' out onto the hillside and over here I'm having a central fireplace put in so on cold nights like these I can cuddle up with my woman."

Seth looked around,

"Is your wife staying nearby?"

"Nah, she's gone back to set up shop at her folks, not a big fan of all the upheaval and concrete dust but I keep tellin' her that all this will be worth it when it's finished and we've got ourselves a real marital home."

Beneath their feet the concrete gave way to the staircase which he took them up carefully to explain the upper floor, including where the bedrooms and bathrooms were going and the colors and fabrics that his wife had picked out. Evidently she was into oriental patterns while the veteran preferred a typically manly selection of plain shades, perhaps with an animal skull or two thrown in about the place to keep the whole wilderness aesthetic thing up to scratch.

"Reminds me of where we used to live when I was little, my brother an' I used to go huntin' skulls the whole time, used to drive my poor mother crazy."

Dean had snorted,

"Sounds like a real nice place."

"Sure was."

But because he wasn't particularly interested in the fittings, Dean fast began to lose interest in the place and so instead went and stood beside the unprotected chasm that if fallen from would have put him in the middle of the lounge downstairs.

Palms spread over his chest and pulled him backwards,

"Roman – ,"

"I can't help it uce, you know I don't like heights."

Dean speared a toe out and hung it over the opening in a teasing little motion as he strained against the hands and in response his bigger teammate hauled him right the way back again with the type of heavy sigh that he reserved mostly for his kids.

"C' mon big guy, you really think I'd jump it?"

"I know you would."

"Maybe, but only for a bet."

"So what exactly do I have to pay you _not_ to do it?"

Dean thought briefly,

"Shave off your hair?"

Roman prodded him forwards again,

"In that case – ,"

"Nah, m' only kiddin' man, congrats, you talked me out of it after all."

Behind them their host was still talking about dry wall or appropriate roofing timbers or something totally fucking dull and in response Seth was nodding and humming in approval but very likely listening to none of what was being said, since their younger man was so pumped to be spending time with his hero that he would have stood while he had lectured on genital warts. Luckily however, the tour didn't go that far and instead the proud homeowner took them back downstairs again, finishing up their orientation with the garage, that comprised only a drawn out and dug up square.

"She's gonna be double wide so I can house all my choppers,"

Dean grunted,

"Looks nice man – like – real _earthy_ an' stuff."

Seth glared back and shook his head mildly but the veteran didn't seem to pick up on the wry tones, because instead he simply nodded his bandana and grinned across,

"Yep, they're pourin' the base next week."

"Uh huh."

"Thinkin' about makin' a games room above it but I don't know how the wife would feel about that."

Roman raised his thick brows,

"Gotta keep her happy man."

Mark nodded back at him but then for several seconds his perpetually narrowed gaze seemed to loosely float off which he rectified suddenly by clapping his hands together and with such a lack of warning that the three of them jumped.

"So, who wants some grilled meat?"

Dean blew a thankful breath out as his stomach made attempts to turn in on itself and blinked as the breeze that was blowing across the hillside rucked up a patch of his copper blonde fluff,

"Fuckin' _yes_ , I thought you'd never ask man."

"Make yourselves comfy boys, I'll throw the steaks on."

Leading the way he took them back to the lounge chairs overlooking the lofty and impressive city views and then busied himself with the business end of hosting as his guests got comfy in the seats one by one. Dean pulled his shades from the top of his tangle and then laid himself flat to drink in the brightening sun, which then managed to chase away the worst of the bitterness that was still being blown around their ankles cold and strong.

Seth snorted wryly,

"I can't believe I'm here man, I mean, thirteen year old me would be totally freaking out."

"Not exactly pullin' it off as a grown ass man either."

"Come on then wise guy, who was _your_ hero growing up?"

Dean frowned a little above his still clamped shut eyelids because he wasn't really sure he had revered _anyone_ , or at least not in the way that his younger brother had done, with scrapbooks and newspapers and that whole crazy deal. In fact he hadn't even had posters in his bedroom, because they hadn't had the money to buy the magazines they were in although he _had_ once traded a tape cassette of punk rock tunes to get his hands on several postcards showing some buxom female nudes.

He shrugged,

"I liked brunette one from Baywatch."

Seth rolled his eyes,

"I _meant_ heroes that were men."

"Didn't have any."

"Come on man – ,"

"M' serious, there just weren't many guys in my life who weren't fucked. I mean, I guess I kinda liked a couple of wrestlers but I didn't have pictures of 'em cut out like you,"

Roman looked across at him ruefully,

"There wasn't anyone?"

Dean blinked in response then waved an airy hand,

"I mean there was _one_ guy who lived in our apartment and pretty much aced every lesson in school. He even went off to fuckin' _college_ an' all that shit, so I totally thought that he was a badass because he did somethin' no one from where m' from got to do an' it made me realize that I could break out as well I guess."

Seth patted his shoulder,

"Then we all owe him for that."

Dean grinned,

"Careful what if you're new childhood _best friend_ sees you payin' attention to somebody else?"

"Let him, I figure I've still got time for you assholes."

"Nice man, real nice."

Mark lumbered back up and for a second Dean wondered if the veteran really _was_ hot about the little hero worshipper showing affection to his friends, but which actually turned out to be him announcing the food was ready as was then further evidenced by him passing across a plate. Dean for some reason was given the first helping and he grinned petulantly at his jealous younger brother,

 _Ha_.

But in no time at all each one of them was furnished with more meat than it would have taken to feed the lions in a zoo and another can of beer a piece to soak down the offerings which were smoking from the barbecue and chargrilled and slightly burnt in that beautiful charcoal flavoured way that tasted heavenly and ensured that every piece across the plates was hoovered up.

"So," Mark started, "You boys like bein' on the taskforce?"

Roman replied after another chug of beer,

"You mean having to work with these two yahoos every damn day? I mean, it could be _worse_."

Seth snorted,

"Hey speak for yourself."

In response it to their powerhouse chuckled a little but then put his plate down and seemed to mildly sober up since the next part of his answer was shot through with a resonance and the sort of feel good factor that only the big guy could put across.

"Honestly? Pretty much the best thing that ever happened to me, not including the birth of my kids."

"That's good to hear man."

"I couldn't image it being different."

Roman put out a big hand as he spoke and then used it tap his brothers' kneecaps idly in a grounding little move that functioned as a hug and also left out the fact that things _had_ been different less than two hugely traumatizing years before when his ass had been festering in the heat several states away and their third man had been serving his sentence in jail.

Dean frowned a little –

Did the veteran even know that or was their former full implosion a fact their boss had left out? Mark certainly didn't seem like he was carrying any undertones, but then the guy was an expert on keeping his cool so maybe he knew every sordid little detail and for their sakes just simply wasn't letting on that he did.

Seth nodded keenly,

"This team does good work man, we do what we need to."

Mark smiled,

"I see that, but what about you?"

Dean blinked at him,

"Me what?"

"How do you feel about this thing you got runnin' here?"

In response to the question the copper blonde shrugged, since heartfelt had never really much been in his ballpark and neither was telling people how much they meant to him. He did it if he had to or else had been spooked into it like after Kevin Owens had left him to die, but generally speaking he had never been keen on pouring his heart out during lazy weekends lunchtimes when he was hanging with his friends.

He stared dead ahead and gave thanks for his sunglasses,

"Yeah – I mean, whatever man – it's sweet, these guys are my best friends an' shit, so m' happy."

Mark seemed genuinely pleased by that.

"Good."

Fortunately then the conversation turned back again to the general sort of topics considered safe bets for awkward men and so as a result passed through football and ball sports before swinging round to motorbikes and carburettors and macho shit.

 _Roar_.

Dean sipped his beer but mostly stayed quiet since he wasn't a social butterfly but because he also felt relaxed and which was probably a result of the good food and the chilled brewskies complimented perfectly by the sun and fresh air. At one point he even spotted an eagle circling in the pale grey-blue sky overhead and so clambered from his lounger to get a little closer which took him to a point behind where the garage would soon be built.

"What is that a hawk?"

He was asking himself mostly since as far as he knew he was the only one around and so therefore launched himself a foot off the groundworks as a voice answered gruffly,

"Red tailed to be exact."

Mark had at some point padded out to join him and was standing holding his beer and looking out across the void, making a big show of being super casual but evidently waiting for the other man to respond.

Dean cleared his throat,

"I uh, never figured you for a _field expert_."

Mark shrugged,

"Sometimes I prefer animals 'stead of men."

"Me too I guess."

"Yeah you and me are pretty similar – but then I always thought that even way back in the day."

Mark took a sip of beer again idly and then stood gazing out across the limits of their hometown, the windows of which were catching the light gleefully and blazing on back to half blind them with the shine.

Dean frowned at him,

"Huh?"

"I said I always knew that we were similar."

"We only just met."

Mark snorted,

"Face to face sure, but back when the commissioner was puttin' your team together she asked me if I could recommend any men. I had read your name in a couple of police reports and so I looked you up and I guess I liked what I saw. You were a scrapper who'd had a rough childhood and I figured I could relate in my own special way."

"So – so you recommended me?"

"You wish that I hadn't?"

"Uh, I – no."

"Well then there you go son, oh and no need to thank me for it either."

Dean hadn't even been remotely _close_ to doing that considering that his head was still turning over the revelation and trying to process it somewhere and somehow because how in the world could a man he'd never heard of and who he'd previously never met have played such a big part in his life?

He shook his head,

"Fuck."

Mark clapped him on the shoulder and then squeezed it a little,

"But that was all I did, the rest was on you and if they hadn't had faith in you then you wouldn't still be here kickin' bad guy ass and you sure as hell wouldn't be talking to the commissioner about her bein' a witch if you weren't somethin' kid."

Dean blinked.

"Uh _thanks_?"

"I mean that son."

"Uh huh."

Dean still felt like he'd been fucking kicked because he had always believed the boss had handpicked him on account of his natural ability to blend in easily on the meanest of their city's long list of mean streets. In fact it was a point of which he was prodigiously proud of and so therefore that felt lessened for it not being the case.

Except it _was_ still the case in reality –

Mark had said himself that it was.

Dean was on the taskforce purely because he belonged there and because their commissioner had seen something in him and also put her faith in him repeatedly to get the job done and so frankly precious little had physically changed with the out-of-the-way bombshell that the veteran had first spotted him.

Everything was the same right?

He blew free a long groan,

" _Ugh_."

"Come on son, let's get you another cold one."

Dean let the older man spin him around and then lead him back through the bushes towards his brothers who were still on the loungers soaking up the sun and totally at peace and ease with their surroundings in a way that managed to soothe his pumping heart, since he neither of the men would give a fuck about who had picked him, or where or why since he was still their best friend.

In response to that thought he smiled just a little and then looked up curiously,

"So did you recommend them?"

Mark blinked,

"Your boys? Nope, they didn't come from me son."

Dean grunted back,

"Huh."

Seth would be crushed.

* * *

 **So Mark is the reason that Dean is on the team. Expect a call to the boss woman next time plus a second call which comes through to him...but who it be?**


	7. Mister Kingdom

**Firstly (and because I can't say it enough) thank you to all my wonderful reviewers. In case you ever forget it you rock! Secondly I promised some movement in this chapter and maybe some more hints besides, so here is me in my own way, delivering on that promise. I hope you like it!**

 **Skovko, Haha, well, I'm always here to baffle and confuse you so I'm taking that as a big fat compliment. Not sure how you'll feel by the end of this installment but hopefully this will throw a spanner in the works as well *evil laughter which breaks off into coughing***

 **Mandy, Dean and Steph interaction coming your way because I know how you love it! Putting the finishing touches to another Dean/Steph oneshot too so look at me being all on your wavelength! Glad you like Mark, he really slotted into this story so well (luckily for me!)**

 **LHisawesome4ever, Well, twists and turns are hopefully going to be my speciality for a few more chapters unless you manage to figure me out. Hopefully by the end of this chapter your guess for the murderer will be clearer (or not) too...if you can trust I'm telling the truth… *wink***

 **Wolfgirl2013, Aww, thank you! But really I think the credit pretty much has to all go our lovely Shield boys here, because I mean, they are tracking down a brutal killer after all!**

 **Cherry619, It's going to take more than an ongoing murder investigation and the rug being pulled out from under his feet to make Dean stop tormenting Seth. Brothers to the end and especially on the teasing front. Boys will totally be boys and especially if they're overgrown kids like Dean!**

 **SkittlezLvr79, I feel like Taker would be financially shrewd (except for motorbike purchases) but then again, anything is possible in this story right? I think Mark likes how offbeat Dean is because neither of them have ever done things the 'proper' way. Still, more clues for you coming right up!**

 **Cheryl24, This is the third of these stories so far. Vince is in the first (The Shield Reunited) skips the second (The Shield Undivided) while Hunter is mentioned throughout then turns up in my oneshot series (The Shield Unscripted). Hopefully by the end of this you'll want to check them out!**

 **Derick Lindsey, Gotta love the occasional take-a-breath chapter, plus I have so much fun just writing the boys hanging out. Dean not being handpicked by Stephanie is going to rumble through into this chapter too, but yeah, poor Seth, like Dean needs more fodder to tease his little bro!**

 **Daisysakura, You know what? I read it back and thought it felt short too, but the weird thing is that last chapter was the same length as most of the others. Weird! Haha, you're so a girl after my own heart with the whole loving Dean in peril thing. That boy is too easy to love beaten up!**

 **Minnie1015, Thanks! It's really weird writing a mystery whereby you know the whole time what's really happening but are trying to write it like you don't. Maybe I should have just made it up as I went along and then that way I could have even surprised myself! Hmmm, maybe not though!**

 **Guest, Hey there, thank you so much. I'm glad you're enjoying it and hopefully this chapter lives up to expectations, there's some serious drama going to go down in this one so best prepare yourself for the ride ahead!**

 **Wwe21, Hey there! Welcome to the madness, good to have you back with us (by us I mean me and the boys obviously!) The good news is that I am currently writing new oneshots. I can't promise that I can perfectly match your request but I can try, there's certainly lots more to come anyway!**

 **HannonsPen, Yay to you beong all caught up! Glad you like Dean being mean to Seth too. Brothers will be brothers after all! Happy you like Mark too, he is undeniably cool, whatever he's doing. I'm super pleased you think he's in character because he doesn't talk much so I had to try my best!**

 **Ring ring, ring ring...**

* * *

 **Mister Kingdom**

Dean was in the warehouse by eight thirty the next weekday morning, having told his brothers that he had needed to catch up on things and that they therefore weren't needed to pick his ass up early or make a special journey or stop by his place. On the downside it meant he missed a slap-up diner breakfast and the associated waffles and bacon and bubbling grease but on the _plus_ side it meant that the place was deserted so he could make his important phone call in relative peace.

He had been thinking for the rest of the weekend about doing it but had already backed out of the thought once or twice, since he didn't want to seem like a fucking baby about it or like he was trying to throw his toys out of the crib –

Except the more it turned and gnawed at his brainstem, the more he knew that it had to be done and the less fucking sleep he got over the whole thing and so to that end he blew a breath out and then keyed the vital number in.

Stephanie picked up on the second ring near enough,

" _Ambrose, have you got something_?"

He had known she would be in, because in spite of the fact she had a house by the river that was larger than a standard department store, for the most part she seemed to live in her office so had likely dragged her coffin into the building at some point or had found a loose floorboard to hide her broomstick underneath.

He grinned at the thought and then forgot to say anything.

" _Ambrose are you there_?"

"Uh yeah."

" _What do you have_?"

Naturally she assumed he was phoning about the strangler and she seemed so pumped about the prospect of a breakthrough that he actually felt bad about getting up her hopes and so stumbled a little as he scratched at his neckline and painted his skin in bright red, awkward marks.

"Actually it's not – like – about the case or anythin'."

" _It's not_?"

Rather than sound annoyed she sounded genuinely surprised, like she couldn't imagine what in the hell else they would have to talk about and to be honest that thought process wasn't totally out of line. Because while they were an unmistakable sort of family they were the kind of kin that didn't get together too much. Sure they loved each other and would fight to protect that, but menial idle chatter had never and _would_ never be their bag. Briefly he wondered if he should mention her new relationship, but at the very last moment decided to bail out and instead stop being such a giant fucking pussy and just damn well say it.

"Did you only pick me because of Mark?"

" _What_?"

Dean lifted a hand to rub his eyelids then proceeded to do it so hard it actually hurt, which made him blow out a grumble of frustration since he'd been hoping she would know in an instant what he'd meant.

He said it again slower,

"Mark told me he'd put my name in when you were lookin' for guys for the team back then an' it's not like m' sayin' that he's lyin' or whatever but I guess I was just wonderin – ,"

He tailed off with a shrug which seemed a pretty redundant move in the moment since his boss couldn't possibly see it from where she was. Fortunately however either based on the silence or possibly the fact that she knew him so well, the commissioner merely answered him easily in her uber clipped and no nonsense kind of tones.

" _That's right, is there a problem with that Ambrose_?"

"No," Dean bit back sullenly,

" _Are you sure about that? Because you sound a little pissed off_."

"M' fine."

But she was right in the fact that his gruff tones implied otherwise because honestly he was coming across like an absolute five year old and an impossibly grumpy one at that who had been told to eat his vegetables or brush his teeth or something and although he was aware of the unflattering similarities, he still couldn't seem to make himself stop.

Stephanie sighed,

" _Ambrose_ – ,"

"I thought you handpicked me."

" _I did_."

"No you didn't, you only found me 'cos of him."

Dean grabbed a pen up and then started angry clicking it before dropping it down repeatedly onto his desk ballpoint first and watching as it left tiny little indentations and blots of black ink.

" _But it was my choice after that_."

"Yeah but – ,"

" _Besides, how exactly did you think I had found you_?"

"I don't know."

He had never much thought, instead choosing to work on some unspoken principle that his reputation had preceded him or she had seen him at work or maybe that the gods had whispered his name to her one night when she'd been tucked in her coffin fast asleep. In short he just thought that _she_ had been his champion.

He grumbled,

"I guess I thought you'd heard 'bout me."

" _I had, but only because Mark came by my office and said that I'd be crazy not to look you up. You know what? He was right too, you've been an absolute asset_."

"Steph – ,"

" _Dean listen you were and still are my best man. Your teammates come a pretty close second, but for god sakes you had better not tell them I said that or you're gone_."

Dean snorted back,

"Sure thing boss."

He was grinning and he probably looked like a total fucking loon, but in the moment that didn't really seem to matter too much because the confirmation was basically what he needed to hear. Not that he was willing to let on that she had helped him or perked his mood up, so he roughly cleared his throat and then went back to his usual grumble,

"So we all done here? Because y' know, some of us need to work."

Stephanie hummed a little,

" _Of course, my apologies_."

But he could practically see the smug look on her face and the way she was likely pursing her lips together to fight back what was probably the ghost of a smile. In general she wasn't renowned for her humor which was a trait that she had inherited direct from her old man, but the rare times she broke out a genuine chuckle were actually pretty nice and very often caused by him. It was actually a fact which he took a scrap of pride in –

Not that he showed it.

He grunted,

"Hangin' up now."

Instantly she went right back to being their commissioner,

" _Let me know if he calls you_."

Evidently she meant their catch and the copper blonde replied with a snort of derision because it had been four days since their advert had first appeared in the papers and while their asshole killer had thankfully not killed anyone, nor had he reached out the olive branch and made the call. Dean's plan was therefore looking like a bust of huge proportions and so his answer was wry,

"Oh yeah, he'll come through any second now an' beg me to put him away for all of the killin' or to promise he's gonna stop an' take up knittin' or shit like that."

Stephanie sniffed,

" _Well then let me know immediately and I'll send him some extra balls of wool on the house_."

"Definitely hangin' up now."

Dean moved the receiver and then went to drop it into its holster on the desk but not before he heard his boss send a farewell which was pretty far removed from her usual clipped tones.

" _You're still my guy_."

"Huh, that's weird, I thought Kurt was."

He grinned to himself and then hung-up like a child, poking his tongue out the way he did when was he was gratified and then using his teeth to clamp it firmly into place.

Not that he knew the particular romantic status of his employer and her new bald-headed politician boyfriend or frankly if the two of them were even still dating since he had made the wise decision to keep himself out of the loop. He had managed it too, not including the moment he had kind of cornered the guy in the men's room and warned him not to break their fiery boss' feelings which hadn't exactly turned out like he'd expected and which their chieftain had then found out about roasted him for.

But either way the tumultuous love life of their commissioner had always been fair game on the teasing side of things and so he bit his tongue harder at the thought of her expression and was still clamping down on it when his teammates rolled in.

Roman saw the face and stopped on the threshold,

"Uh oh uce, what's _that_ look for?"

"Nothin'," Dean shrugged back but being far too casual,

"Not buying it babe."

"Just fuckin' with the boss."

In response to the cheerful and deeply smug admission, their big man snorted and then shook his head, peeling off a thick and sensible winter jacket and then draping it tidily across the back of his chair.

Seth stepped towards him carrying something,

"Here man."

He accompanied the words with a throw and the copper blonde held his hands out in bewilderment as a grease marked paper bag arced a path across the room. It landed in his palms then bounced off onto his jean fronts but he caught it before it could topple off onto the floor and then set about unravelling the packaging until a glistening breakfast sandwich fell into view.

"Ugh – ,"

Dean shut his eyes in a moment of pleasure and then wasted little time bringing the food to his mouth, savoring the blend of bread, egg and bacon which were all tied together by rich cooking oil,

Roman grinned,

"Good, huh?"

"You guys complete me."

"You talking us or the sandwich?" Seth snorted handing him a cup, which instantly wafted up the thick aroma of coffee and burnt through his fingertips,

Dean groaned again,

"Both."

"Figured your ass probably skipped out on breakfast," Roman replied as he fired his computer up then cast around bleakly at the mountain of boxes they were still trying to sort through for hints to the case. In total they had probably made a dent in about half of them, but there was still an impossibly long way to go and although scanning the files was a necessary evil it was collectively by no means their favourite thing to do.

Dean shrugged,

"I had a popsicle I found in the freezer."

Roman raised a wry brow in return,

"I rest my case."

Beside them their younger brother was still buzzing around the warehouse, triggering switches that no one else know how to work and generally underlining his role as their _tech wizard_ as he brought the various things at his workstation back to life.

He gestured loosely towards their patient little burner phone,

"Still no calls man?"

"You mean from _our_ guy or random calls?"

Seth blinked back at his copper blonde brother in measures of surprise,

"You've had other calls?"

"Oh yeah, because it turns out when you put a bible quote in the papers with a telephone number underneath, people phone to save their souls which I think we can all agree on pretty damn fast here is not exactly the area m' best equipped for y' know?"

Nor was he embellishing his story on that one since he had managed to rack up twelve salvation calls so far and had even spent a very long thirty five minutes the previous evening to an elderly and pretty confused sounding Hispanic man, who had insisted on rattling off his menial sin count and which had included ignoring the sell-by dates on yogurts and not looking both ways before crossing the road.

Seth snorted,

"Jesus."

Dean made a cross sign,

"Bless you."

He was starting to get into the whole _ministering_ thing and seeing that but by no means keen to encourage it, Roman coughed a laugh down then switched the topic up again,

"Mark been in yet?"

"Nope, haven't seen him, but then again maybe he's havin' himself another ton of concrete poured or has kidnapped some poor hitchhiker right off the roadside an' is givin' them his fascinatin' compulsory house tour?"

Roman chuckled in response to the suggestion but predictably it garnered a hot look from Seth who frowned a little in a flash of disapproval,

"Hey man be nice, besides, I thought you liked him now?"

Dean shrugged,

"Kinda."

He certainly _owed_ Mark but whether or not that translated into friendship or tentative liking he couldn't be sure and since having to think about it made his stomach rumble, he took the last bite of his artery clogging breakfast and then screwed up the paper which he shot put into the bin, before wiping his hands across the front of his denims and remembering something,

"Did you know computers are really old?"

"What?"

"You been watching that documentary channel again babe?"

Dean ignored the muted response and instead pressed on with his totally important titbit which he knew they would thank him for when he finally got it out.

"They had these _things_ that could tell 'em where the stars were and where they were gonna be to help 'em navigate their boats which is totally like – pretty fuckin' cool right?"

Seth rolled his eyes in long suffering,

"Oh _yeah_."

"Fucker, my awesome facts are wasted on your ass."

But whatever terse rejoinder the younger man was cooking up was lost pretty rapidly as the burner phone flashed brightly and then began to judder on the desktop which drew their collective attentions as one.

"Shit."

"Relax," Dean waved an airy hand in their direction, "Probably just José callin' me back because he said a bad word or had an impure thought or somethin'."

"Babe – ,"

Dean ignored him and hit the button,

"Hello?"

For a second the big open office remained silent as whoever the caller was kept them hanging on the line and it seemed momentarily that it was an expectant telemarketer waiting to be put through to try and sell them half price life insurance or tell them they had won a vacation somehow.

In the end however, it turned out to be neither.

" _I guess you're the guy they got looking for me_?"

Fuck.

Dean blinked rapidly and his heart flipped clean over before lodging itself sideways about halfway up his throat where it proceeded to inhibit his major motor functions because a fucking serial killer had evidently phoned them up and was looking to start some kind of conversation.

Dean looked to his brothers and sucked a breath in,

"Depends, might wanna go ahead and tell me who you are first."

" _You don't know_?"

It was a deep sounding voice but slow and meticulous as if the guy was really asking instead of bragging the line out and on hearing it Roman moved across to stand beside him and then raised his brows a little in confirmation to test that out.

Dean wet his lips,

"I mean, I got an idea sure, but how do I know that it's – like – really you?"

Seth too had moved closer until all three of them were clustered in the space around the copper blonde's perpetually cluttered desk and holding their breath like it was some collective effort as they poised themselves for whatever their eerie caller said next.

" _Sin is crouching at the door_."

"What about it?"

" _That's the message I wrote on the walls, painted it in red above their poor broken bodies_."

Holy fuck.

No question that it was definitely their guy then.

In response to the statement Roman clenched his meaty fists up and his jawline locked and altered his face, taking away the usual easiness and replacing it instead with a bubbling hate. Seth too reacted in a physical motion by reaching up both hands to rake through his hair and then levering himself from the desktop in frustration before taking to the floorboards and starting to angry pace. Dean on the other hand released a breath slowly and then tried to keep going like he spoke to murderers all the time, because the last thing they wanted was to scare the fucker somehow and lose the best breakthrough the case had gotten in twenty years.

"So did you call for a reason or are you just ringin' to shoot the breeze here?"

Deep tones rumbled back,

" _I want to tell you that you're all wrong._ "

"'Bout what?"

" _Everything_."

Dean frowned and then looked up again as if maybe the sentence had been deciphered by his brothers or in case he had missed a crucial part of the line, but instead two totally blank expressions peered back at him as clueless as he was and so he blew out a testy sigh,

"Wanna be a little more specific on that one?"

" _Everything you pigs think you know is all wrong_."

"Like what?"

In reply the killer grunted a tiny noise out which could have been a rough sounding wry sort of a laugh or possibly more likely a bark of derision but which raised the three men's hackles whatever the hell it was and which was then made even worse by the sudden change in feeling as the guy bit back with a sudden angry tone so that it seemed like he was physically growling the words out.

" _You're all so stupid you can't see what's going on_."

"Which is what exactly?"

Behind them the steps creaked and there was the heavy tread of footsteps as a figure plodded up. Mark appeared in the room seconds later, wearing a broad smile and looking refreshed. He opened his mouth to let loose a greeting but then frowned when three sets of waving hands cut him off. Seth pointed in exaggerated movements towards the burner phone and the veteran cop paused momentarily then blinked.

Meanwhile the eerie tones continued to fill the room up,

" _No man is an island_."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

Behind them Mark shuffled uncertainly on the floorboards and looking up revealed a ghostly pale face which had seemed to take a dive when he had heard the killer speaking and which was probably because he had dreamt about the moment for years.

Back on the phone the killer snorted shortly and then went right back to being angry again,

" _I never chose to live like this, I was forced into it_."

"Lemme guess, by voices, right?"

" _No, by my br_ – ,"

But whatever else their killer had been wanting to share with them was promptly cut off by the pounding of feet and their veteran swiping the cell phone away from them before bellowing into it like he had somehow been unleashed,

"Listen to me you god damn asshole – ,"

Dean blinked back in astonishment,

"Whoa, _dude_."

But short of tackling the guy like a quarterback and prying it from his grasp the phone remained in Mark's hand and clamped to his ear like it wasn't on speaker but which punctuated each deadly threat loud and clear.

"I'm gonna make you pay for what you've done you bastard, when I'm through you'll wish you'd never started up again."

Seth stepped forward,

"Calaway – ,"

But he was too late to help things, because not only did the veteran then hang up on the killer but he leaned his arm back then threw the phone across the room, hurling it straight towards the solid red brickwork and grunting with pleasure as it exploded into shards.

Dean gaped,

"The _fuck_ man?"

Mark blinked and then his face fell in a way that implied he was waking from a haze or possible some form of spiritual possession which in the moment was frankly the only thing that made sense.

"Oh man, boys, I'm sorry – ,"

Dean burst,

"You're _sorry_? That was the best fuckin' chance we had."

He gestured towards the splinters of the cell phone to further his point as he bellowed across the room and then physically had to hold himself back from storming over and swinging his fist up and right into the guy's nose.

Huh?

Hands came down and curled in around his bicep and looking around he realized he had at some point launched up and actually made steps towards the pale faced veteran, to the point where Roman had felt the need to hold him back –

Not that their big man himself looked much happier as his low tones made obvious,

"It's not worth it uce."

"Roman, he fucked it up – ,"

"I know babe."

"We're never goin' to get his ass now."

Seth stepped in, planting himself steadily between the veteran and his steaming teammates with his hands held up for calm and which only half worked since the copper blonde was still fuming and likely to explode at any moment with a boom.

"Whoa, whoa hey, let's all just calm down here."

"Seth – ,"

"I know okay? I was here too, but us shouting and brawling isn't going to help anything."

Mark shook his head behind him,

"This is all my fault."

"You're god damn right it is, what the hell happened man?"

In response to the question, the veteran hauled a breath in and then lowered his eyes to a point on the floorboards as if looking around might bring his concentration back or maybe like he was still trying to figure out his own fuck up.

"Hearin' his voice, I just – I just snapped boys, twenty five years _, twenty five years_ its been now – ,"

It was entirely possible that given the situation, the older man was having a breakdown of sorts and based on the mournful sounding tones of his answer the three man team around him began to reluctantly cool off.

Seth nodded,

"We get it man."

But whatever the hell had happened, there was one thing that was evident and brutally clear and that was that their link to the strangler was gone now and with it their best hope for catching him had disappeared, meaning that the nightmare spree of killing wasn't over and their mission was lost and back to square one.

Damn.

* * *

 **So, Mark let his temper get the best of him again but then on the plus side (if you can call it a plus) we finally got to (sort of) meet our killer. Which leads me onto my next question…**

 **Thoughts?**


	8. Loser Gone Wild

**So then my lovely, lovely reviewers, from here on out, things start to get serious and...well, I'm not going to say anything more than that!**

 **Minnie1015, Nope, not going to say you're right on this...not going to say you're wrong though either, instead I'm going to let you sweat it out a bit because that's the type of girl I am! Plus this chapter might make you sweat even more!**

 **Guest, If you liked the last chapter and the tension and drama, then I have good news because in this one it kinda takes off so you definitely need to hold onto your hat here!**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Yay! Thank you, this instalment here is one of my favourites because everything starts to kind of speed up, so hopefully you agree with me and love it too!**

 **Mandy, Steph and Dean have a great dynamic! Secretly caring for each other a lot but would only ever say it on pain of death. Reminds me of the relationship I have with one of my employees but then the two of us have worked together for twelve years!**

 **LHisawesome4ever, Sorry about the wait, I hope it wasn't too bad. Not gonna get any real answers for a while or at least not any hard and fast ones but there will (as ever) be lots of clues still so maybe you can whittle your suspects list down?!**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Dean is such a pup, he needs someone to pat his head and tell him he's a good boy! But he's bad when he skips breakfast, which of course he does because he's Dean. Gives Roman someone to mother hen though, right?! Still playing your cards close huh? I see you!**

 **Daisysakura, Yep, Dean is totally pissed with Mark (see the first word of this chapter for reference, lol). Kinda gets even more dark from here on out too, because why not huh?! Besides, can't have real drama without a bit of life or death peril right? I know you love it!**

 **Derick Lindsey, Oooh, intrigued to know now whether or not your guess turns out to be right (probably will). We're coming into the next portion of this story now so lots and lots of clues, besides the eventual answers of course...in time though naturally!**

 **Skovko, I'm sorry but theory changes are no longer being accepted by the administrator...nah, I'm kidding! Feel free to change up your theory on the killer as many times as you like. This chapter is probably going to give a whole lot more away, but not all of it yet!**

 **Irishfan62, Oooh, maybe or maybe I just put that quote in because I love the poem (which I do by the way as a totally uninteresting aside!) Well, as usual I'm gonna stick to my guns and not say anything but lots of clues and drama now heading your way!**

 **Leigh-Anne, Hi there! I love seeing how everyone's minds are working trying to figure out what's going on and while I should probably apologise for having made this story so cryptic, I'm also glad that you're enjoying it enough to put in the thinking time, so thank you!**

 **Cherry619, Oh yeah, safe to say that they're all pissed with Mark in this one as you're going to see. Dean especially is not a very happy guy! As for your next guess? Well, it's kind of a funny story really...either that or we're telepathically linked!**

 **Jcott3, All guesses on who the killer is are welcomed and there's a lot more hints and then finally some answers coming up in the next handful of chapters. Haha, I know what you mean about Steph and Dean too, but he did still bust her balls a bit at the end, because he has to really!**

 **Big drama folks, big big drama...**

* * *

 **Loser Gone Wild**

"Fuck," Dean banged his beer harshly on the table then spat the word out a second time, " _Fuck_."

It was hardly his most articulate of moments, but then again he felt he had a reason to be pissed, besides which neither of his brothers had corrected him and which therefore gave him the freedom to say it again,

"Fuck."

Beside them in a plush leather booth in one corner a group of businesswomen who were celebrating their merger or a birthday or maybe one of them hitting the menopause, gave the terse sounding lawman a look of disapproval which he brushed off with ease and a repetition,

"Fuck man."

"Dean," Seth sighed from his seat directly opposite, nursing a similarly untouched bottle of suds, "Getting our asses thrown out ain't gonna help us."

Dean shook his head,

"Cesaro won't throw us out."

It was possibly the one factor in their crazy ass day that he felt sure about since pretty much everything else had gone to hell and then kept on going until it bust right through the other side and popped out in China before heading through the atmosphere.

 _Hmmm_.

He lingered on the image of that for a second and so was still picturing clouds with a stone pitching through them when their older brother blew out a sigh of his own and then sat back heavily with a loud crack of chair slats that he paid nevermind to,

"We're gonna have to tell Steph."

Seth winced a little,

"Come on man, cut him some slack here."

Roman spread his hands out,

"We can't keep this to ourselves, I mean maybe if the guy had slipped up a little but for all we know Mark has gone and killed the whole case and I know he's your hero but I think our hands are tied here."

"But you heard him back there, it's been _twenty five years_."

"Which is all the more reason he should have wanted shit done properly."

Seth let his head fall,

"I know, I know, but if we tell her about what happened then she'll pull him off the case for good man and honestly I think he needs the chance to see this through."

Dean grunted back.

It was the one thing they agreed on since it was pretty clear to anyone with a working set of eyeballs that their deeply erratic veteran was right on the edge and possibly _had_ been since the failings decades earlier that had let a brutal killer slip right through the net but which was also the reason that his blow up in the office made such little sense because he'd gone and fucked it up. Potentially burying him beneath the weight of more remorsefulness and dragging down the three of them with him as well.

"Fuck."

Dean took another deep draft of his liquor then began to tap the coaster against the table in double time, trying to channel his broiling tension into something other than itching his already scratched neckline, but then giving up and digging his claws in anyway with a tiny groan of happiness.

Roman pushed down his hand,

"Hey."

"Can't help it uce, I fuckin' need to do it."

It was something he had done in a small way before but which had pretty much hit overdrive since Kevin Owens had grabbed him and buried him shot-up but still very much alive. He wasn't too sure why he had taken to doing it and nor was the therapist Steph and Vince had made him see, but whenever he was stressed or feeling all fucking angry the need to scratch perpetually seemed to rise up.

Roman squeezed his fingers gently and issued a loving yet warning tone,

"Babe."

In response to the ongoing battle of the itchiness Seth pushed an empty beer bottle towards his friend with one corner of the label peeled down a little which he gestured to as if his brother should finish the trend and the copper blonde seized it up and started pulling off the paper just thankful to have something halfway busy to do again.

He grumbled as he did it,

"Not the first time he's done that."

Seth frowned,

"What?"

"Blown up from outta nowhere man, I mean, remember last week when he shouted at that reporter? He's a total loose cannon an' that shit's comin' from _me_."

Roman nodded back towards their youngest,

"He's right brother."

Seth slumped in his seat but slowly nodded his head and then threw his hands up like he didn't have the answer but was looking for one frantically and coming up short. Honestly it hurt his two teammates having to watch him because their youngest man was usually the most peppy of them all. Besides which it must have been especially hard for him given that he was wrestling with the unhappy knowledge that he was going to have to blab on his biggest inspiration in the world.

Hell –

If it weren't for the legend of Mark Calaway then maybe Seth wouldn't have even been a cop and Roman and Dean would have been lumbered with another partner which made the copper blonde frown and then lightly tense up.

 _Nope_.

Seth blew a breath out,

"Look I know you guys are right on this and I know we gotta do it but I don't have to like this shit."

"I know brother,"

"Which is why _I_ wanna be the asshole that does it."

Dean blinked up,

"Huh?"

"I wanna be the one of us that tells Steph."

For a second there was a strange sort of silence around the table that was only partly broken by the rest of the noise but was very nearly shattered as the businesswomen grouping suddenly busted out an unholy caterwaul, in response to lewd and out-of-character comment one of their rapidly smashed members had offered out and which was so damn loud that glasses nearly fragmented and exploded across the table.

How had his swearing been worse than that?

Roman however ignored the cacophony with the ease of a man who had three kids, two of whom liked to scream loudly at all hours and had lungs like an opera singer holding the big go-home note. Instead he took another sip from his bottle and then nodded across the table,

"If that's what you want?"

"It is man," Seth answered, "I think it's better coming from my mouth."

Dean grunted bitterly,

"'Cos I'd fuck it up?"

Seth rolled his eyes,

"That's not what I said man, I _meant_ that I'm the one that believed in his ass and so if I tell her what happened she'll know it's a problem because no _way_ would I be in there ragging on him if it weren't."

Roman sighed,

"You know what worries me in all of this?"

"Other than the god damn hero of the department losin' his shit in our office?"

"Uh huh,"

"What?"

Roman looked around at the myriad drinking patrons and then lowered himself towards their sticky table top, hushing his voice down to a husky little whisper that he clearly hoped would be indecipherable to everybody else.

"What if our guy getting his crazy ass hung up on it, or if it triggered him or something?"

"Into killing again?" Seth asked,

"Uh huh,"

Dean snorted bitterly and then tore the hanging label on his _fidget bottle_ off before throwing it across the room, letting it sail through the air like a missile to land among the patrons or on the floor or somewhere. In the distance there was the very faint sound of confusion and it made him smile briefly but it didn't last for long since the his bigger of his brother's point had been a pretty valid one and something none of them had the foresight to ignore,

"I guess we have to wait," Dean checked his watch loosely, "He killed 'em all around eight o'clock, right?"

Seth nodded,

"Yeah."

"Then it looks like we got an hour an' maybe another two before someone finds the girl. I figure if we make it to midnight without a phone call then we dodged the fuckin' bullet."

"You think we will?"

Dean grunted,

"No."

Because everything the three of them knew about serial killers pointed over and again to them being totally ego led and so therefore having a policeman screaming threats at them and then being hung up on were damaging things and the sort of base insult that could only be satisfied by imposing their will in a traditionally deadly way. Not that either of them could dwell on it for longer though since they were suddenly interrupted by a familiarly smiling face.

Cesaro held up a bottle of vodka,

"Can I tempt anyone?"

"After last time?" Dean shot back, feeling his guts start to heave on pure instinct, "No fuckin' way."

Roman grinned,

"I think I'll pass."

Luckily however the bald headed Swiss man was pretty much impervious to being offended in any form and so simply poured himself a small glass of the neat stuff and then took a seat beside them,

"I hear Mark Calaway is back."

He said it in such a way that it came out pretty casually but they all knew that the bar owner was fishing for facts and so smiled between themselves before giving an inch to him.

Dean shrugged idly,

"Never heard of him."

"Yeah right," Cesaro snorted then nearly choked on his vodka, "The guy is a _legend_."

Dean glanced across to Seth and then snorted wryly before throwing his back his beer dregs and then hauling himself up from the hard wooden seat, feeling the tell-tale calling of nature starting to press on his bladder with a sense of growing need,

"Hey look, another fan, maybe you two can wear buttons?"

Roman frowned at him,

"You alright?"

"Takin' a leak but thanks for keepin' tabs on me big guy."

By way of reply their big dog let out a snort and then waved his copper blonde brother away from them like he might have whipped his pants off and starting peeing all over them and Dean responded by chuckling at the notion and then unbuckling his belt.

Seth hissed at him,

"Jesus, _go_."

Reaching out a hand the foreign bar owner shoved him and Dean set off through the tables with a laugh and then turned through the door at the end of the bar top and into the hall that led to where the bathrooms were. Halfway along it there was push bar fire exit that some fucking moron had flung open to the night and a howling tornado of bitter wind was whistling through it and more than likely adding zeros to the bar's heating bill.

Dean reached out to shut it,

"Anyone out here?"

He was answered by stormy silence from the alley beyond and so huffed out a breath and as he tugged on the hinges but then stopped at a sharp and sudden crackling noise.

Huh?

It sounded like an empty bottle tumbling over and since the exit lead out onto the street behind a bar it was therefore not unlikely that was precisely what had happened, only the question of _what_ had knocked it remained unsolved. Rats he figured or maybe a scrappy alley cat or potentially even a dumpster diving homeless man.

Dean tried again,

"Hey, you okay out there?"

In response to the question he heard a faint moaning and so narrowed his bright blue eyes in through the gloom before finding what looked like the shape of a person who had tripped over something then ended up on their ass and who therefore was more than likely an intoxicated customer who had staggered to the bathrooms and then taken a wrong turn. Dean frowned at the fact they were possibly injured and then rolled his eyes,

"C' mon man, let's get you up."

In plodding down the three steps and into the alley he stepped straight into a nasty patch of ick, which the bottom of his boot seemed to skid on just a little and which made a gross squelching noise that made him grit his teeth.

Damn.

By the time he had stalked his way over to the body, his patience was waning pretty dangerously fast and so he reached down and grabbed up the shoulder of the person to give it a hefty shake.

It came away in his hand.

"The fuck?"

Instead of having grabbed onto a person he had instead pulled up a jacket that had been flung over some trash but which had looked in the darkness a lot like a person.

Maybe intentionally.

His stomach spun –

Shit.

In the exact same moment that he reached for the holster that he always keep strapped on tight to his belt, the cold metal bite of the barrel of a handgun moved in from the darkness and pressed against his temple hard and in turn then triggered a cold wash of horror that bleed right on through him and made him shudder out a breath, caught between being irate at his stupidity and totally fucking mortified for having been mugged.

He grit his teeth,

"Look man, take my fuckin' wallet, it's in my back pocket but there's not a lot there m' not exactly a god damn billionaire, I mean, look at my clothes if you don't believe that."

He was trying his best to sound very vaguely cheerful so that the asshole with the gun to him wouldn't lose his grip or else get twitchy and make the wrong decision like the guy at start of _Batman Begins_. It seemed to work too because his assailant sort of chuckled but in deep gruff tones that sounded familiar to him and –

 _Fuck_.

"No fuckin' way."

Dean turned his gaze a little and then came eye to eye with a totally bald head which briefly took the bulk of his focus from the features which were clustered together and set low beneath the forehead but buried almost completely by the deep seated scowl which offset the weird sort of gurn of a smile he had, not to mention the left eye which was lidded and fully white.

In short the guy had the face of a killer, which was probably because he fucking _was_ one.

His attacker grinned back,

"Need me to prove who I am this time?"

Dean very briefly debated calling out since a part of him believed that even through the chatter and the thick layers of concrete that his brothers would still hear or else somehow pick up on his impending peril spidey-style and come busting through the exit with their guns held right up.

 _Boys, I need you_.

He sent the thought mentally but much more wisely kept his responding tones low, although not so hushed that the anger wasn't palpable since he spat the words out,

"What the fuck do you want? Got bored of killin' women an' you're comin' after cops now?"

His enemy snorted,

"You think highly of yourself."

"What?"

Dean blinked back in reply because it sounded a little like the guy was chastising him for an ego he didn't have and which was actually pretty wild since it was coming from a killer who had tailed and injected his poor helpless victims before taking a pillow and smothering them to death.

 _He_ was the guy trying to lecture _his_ ass on character?

For real?

Dean was officially in the fucking twilight zone.

In response to the clearly stunned silence however and not liking the sudden awkwardness the brutal killer cleared his throat and then shuffled his stance like he was embarrassed or some shit before evidently remembering that he was holding a gun, since he shoved it a little deeper into the thin flesh of his temple and ground out a sentence,

"I'm not here to kill you _yet_."

Dean snorted,

"Reassurin', do you do motivational speakin'?"

He wasn't really sure why he was trying to piss him off but for whatever reason his tongue keep on blabbering in what was probably a cover for how fucking scared he was.

His ambush buddy grunted,

"I need you to come with me."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not repeating it."

Dean blinked his blue eyes in measures of surprise and then coughed out a borderline baffled sounding chuckle that was laced through with horror,

"Yeah, well thanks, but you're not my type."

Mostly though his head was wildly spinning because of all the many things he had honestly expected on being seized by the deadliest killer their city had ever known, taking a midnight stroll hadn't been one of them, whereas guttings and gougings definitely had. Perhaps all things considered, he was actually pretty lucky that the asshole seemed to want to spend some quality time, besides which he hadn't tried at all to inject him and wasn't holding a syringe so that had to be good.

His assailant rubbed a stressed hand across his features,

"I need to set the record straight here."

"'Bout what man?"

"About _me_."

Dean held his hands a little higher,

"Alright, m' listenin'."

He was trying to stall for time and create some space until his brothers arrived packing because the pair of them were too damn _hennish_ and antsy not to wonder why a piss had taken him so much time and so therefore were likely to launch past at any second to check up on his prostate or jab his abdomen for kidney stones.

"No not here, I _said_ I you needed to come with me."

"Look dude, why don't we just – ,"

Dean broke off then hissed in pain as the gun drew back and then thudded into his cranium, pointed barrel first which hurt like fucking hell and set up a throbbing sensation in his temple that pulsated right through into his brainstem as well and then ricocheted up into his spotting eyeballs like he had a sinus blockage or an allergy to pain.

His aggressor growled,

" _No_."

In terms of real shouting it wasn't a bellow but it echoed back all the same and therefore painted the illusion the guy was gigantic or had somehow managed to master the ability to bend sound.

Dean sucked a breath in,

"Alright, take it easy."

"I need you to ditch your phone and your gun."

Fuck.

Dean should probably have known it was coming but hearing it said aloud was a pretty hard thing since it severed him totally of his means to call backup and his best protective asset –

Not that the gun was even drawn.

Reluctantly however and with the firearm still prodding him like some relentless bird in the side of the head, he slowly opened his jacket folds one handed and drew his weapon out in a toss to the floor, planting the thing right out in the middle which he hoped would make it easier to find, then reaching back and pulling out his cell phone that he threw at the same spot and hit perfectly.

Bullseye.

"There, you happy now?"

His adversary didn't answer but instead reached out and grabbed the back of his neck, then pushed him forward so hard that he stumbled towards the mouth of the alley in a silent directive.

 _Walk_.

In the time it took to blink, the weapon was back again, but pushed instead into the middle of his spine and providing the impetus he needed to keep moving since it was pretty fucking plain that if he stopped he'd be shot.

"So," Dean coughed more than a little roughly, "We are we goin' man? Any chance it's someplace nice?"

He looked about wildly as they stepped onto the main street but found only drunk people with thick coats pulled up and who therefore had no clue of the crisis unfolding in the shape of the two men walking along side by side and who probably looked a little like old time buddies trudging home having enjoyed some post work drinks but which was so far from the truth as to have been fucking crazy.

The killer grunted back at him,

"You're going to find out."

* * *

 **Ooooooohhhhhhh.**

 **Yep, man down, man down.**

 **Next chapter Roman and Seth realize that someone is missing and Mark makes an appearance too, so put your theories on hold for a little longer because the hints still have plenty of road left to run!**


	9. A Long Time Gone

**Looks like I threw you a curveball on the last one then huh? *Rubs hands together like evil supervillain* Aha! Fallout continues in this chapter then. Did anyone order worried brothers?**

 **Mandy, Business is TOTALLY about to pick up for our favourite boys and the good news for you is that Seth is a bit of a rockstar in this chapter as well (as is someone else totally unexpected) so hopefully that should put an even bigger smile on your face!**

 **Sodapop25, Yep, I know, pretty tense right? Time for the others to realize he's missing now, which never makes them especially happy but which I guess they should be kind of used to know. Wouldn't you think?**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Yep, I threw it in good and early because there's still a whole lot more to come. Might want to call this my fakeout grand finale I guess! Question is, has this changed your views of what's happening and who the killer is or is it still good and solid?!**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Yikes indeed. Once again Dean has managed to get himself into a spot of bother. That's our boy right? Roman and Seth start to panic in this one. Hope you enjoy it!**

 **Cherry619, Oooh, I like to keep you on your toes! Plenty more to come with this story too, but yeah, can't not have a bit of Dean in peril and the worried brother goodness that goes with it. Hopefully the next few chapters will end up surprising you!**

 **Daisysakura, I know, I know, I'm mean to my readers AND to Dean, but I'm only mean to you guys because I know you love it really, come on, tell me you don't, LOL! Hurt Dean/worried brothers is the best, so here is your worried brother quota. And as for Bo? Funny you should ask…**

 **Kirrak, Haha, love me, love my cliffhangers, maybe that should be my new motto? But yeah, I know, I'm such a tease for the dramatic endings! Plenty of worrisome Roman and Seth here (eventually) but lots more going on too and even a surprise appearance!**

 **Minnie1015, I would say stow your guesses (or at least make them quietly) for the next two or three chapters and then go all out! But in the meantime, please accept Seth and Roman worrying like they do best and Dean being in trouble like** _ **he**_ **does best. He's too cute in danger!**

 **Skovko, When Dean gets angry, he** _ **fucks**_ **a whole lot, except not in the figurative sense in this case! Plus Seth is known to drop the occasional f-bomb too. I suppose we're just lucky that Roman is there to be the non-swearing father of young children that he is. Good boy Roman!**

 **9.99banksie9.99, Hi there, always nice to have new folks aboard! Well, when it comes to who the killer is I say nothing and deny everything but I CAN say that you'll be getting a lot more hints in the next four chapters and then some serious answers after that! Thanks for your review!**

 **Worried brother time...**

* * *

 **A Long Time Gone**

Eight minutes after their copper blonde brother had sloped off to the bathroom, Mark showed up, pushing his way in through the door of the cop bar and then casting around beneath a dramatically wide brimmed hat and obviously looking for somebody in there.

Seth blinked at him through the moving crowds then gaped,

"Fuck man, what the hell is he doing in here?"

Roman spun back to follow his gaze and then let out a grumbled whine of resentment before looking towards his teammate with an actual wince,

"Damn."

Cesaro shot forward,

"Is that Mark freakin' Calaway?"

"Yeah man."

"In my bar?"

Neat vodka slopped in his glass and a mouthful of the putrid stuff made a sudden break for freedom before hitting the floor wetly but being roundly ignored since the business owner only had eyes for the behemoth wearing the long leather duster and stood on the threshold of his bar.

Roman snorted roughly,

"Uce is gonna go crazy when he sees this."

Seth looked around,

"Where is he anyway? How long does it take to go to the bathroom?"

But their potential new thread on bladder containment issues and getting lost in familiar places was unhappily cut short as the pale colored eyes of their veteran colleague landed on them in a narrowed in blink that flashed across the room.

Cesaro grinned broadly,

"He's coming towards us, oh my goodness, what do I say?"

In response to him the taskforce members merely blew twin breaths out and then tossed the remains of their beer bottles back, because as hard as the decision to rat him out to the boss had been, they both knew it would be twice as hard looking the guy in the face and having to pretend that the last thing they were thinking was turning around and stabbing him in the back.

Mark drew in close and threw his hat onto the table top,

"Evenin' fellers,"

Seth choked on some suds and then managed to set up such a furious coughing fit that they could have simply told him the plan straight out since the reaction was so sudden and splutteringly unusual that the veteran turned his head and narrowed his eyes,

"Y' all right there son?"

Roman leaned over and thumped his younger brother both helpfully but also a little warningly in the middle of the back and the smaller man swiped the tears from his eyeballs and then hacked a few times more,

"Uh, yeah – wow – I'm good man."

Mark nodded back then pulled a loose chair up and was halfway collapsed onto it when Cesaro launched up and then stuck out a hand across the middle of the table like the pair of them were finalizing the particulars of a deal or else agreeing to put an end to a turf war but which was thankfully also offered with a broad grin in tow,

"Mister Calaway, it's such an honor to meet you."

Mark took the hand politely,

"Uh huh."

Roman used the neck of his bottle to point between them, gesturing first to the bewildered looking veteran and then the bald and excitable man,

"This is Cesaro, he owns the bar."

"Nice place you got here man, real good little spot."

Cesaro replied by gabbling out something that could have been mere thanks or a declaration of his love, but was so tangled up in his tongue and cheerful laughter that none of them could coherently figure out what it was. He pumped the outstretched hand for another full minute and then issued a token offer that was far _more_ easily understood,

"I'll get you a drink – anything, it's on the house man."

Mark smiled easily,

"In that case I'll have a beer and another one a piece for my buddies here as well son."

He gestured across the table to Roman and Seth, both who instantly attempted to try and refuse him but were hastily interrupted by the overawed Swiss who positively propelled himself away from the table and then hustled to the bar, calling out as he went,

"Coming right up man."

Mark snorted a little and then lowered into a chair without being asked and grinned at the two men perched awkwardly in front of him before nodding his head,

"He seems like a nice guy."

"He is."

From around them there was still a bubbling swell of chatter and the occasional burst of laughter or the clinking of drinks and it gave the whole place a sense of contentment and happiness but which managed to pass them right by, since instead a grim-faced silence had developed that turned the mood awkward.

Seth blew out a breath,

"So – ,"

Mark interrupted him,

"I wanna say again how sorry I am and I promise that next time I'll keep my big mouth shut."

He nodded at them both like he'd already made his mind up and then laced his long fingers together across the table top before gazing over the distance.

Seth snorted back at him,

"Next time? What if that was the _only_ time we got man?"

Mark shook his head,

"Nah, that son of a bitch will try again, I can damn well feel it."

"How?"

"I know him remember?"

Roman blew a noise out and then finished up his drink which he further proved by smacking his broad lips in appreciation and banging down the bottle beside an errant sticky patch. He looked to Seth and then winced back mildly in preparation or apology,

"You know we've got to tell her, right?"

Even in spite of the _her_ not being specified, each of the men knew exactly who was meant and knew that the shadowy figure of his sentence was their erstwhile police commissioner and possibly her mayoral old man.

Mark grumbled slightly,

"I made one small mistake boys."

Seth barked back hotly,

"One small mistake? You screamed over the phone at a serial killer then smashed the cell up."

It sounded a lot harder when said out loud but the younger man managed to push the rub of that down and instead maintained the glare he was levelling at the older man and the single person who had inspired him beyond any other but who had let them down badly.

He wasn't okay with that.

Nor was he okay with the veteran spreading his hands wide and then trying pretty obviously and badly to weasel out, rather than take responsibility for his actions. Decades of strangler-related self-rapprochement or not.

"Listen boys, just give me another chance here or somethin',"

Roman shook his head,

"Hey, I'm sorry man, but we made a collective decision as a team here and we're gonna stick to it."

Mark glanced around frowning and it was clear that he was questioning the big man's use of the technical term _team_ since their copper blonde brother was weirdly still missing and which the youngest lawman there suddenly remembered with a lurch.

Where the hell was he?

Mark blew a weary breath out,

"How 'bout givin' me 'til the end of the week and if I haven't helped by then you can go ahead and tell her."

Roman threw a look towards his younger brother and then cast towards the spot where their middle man had been and probably _would_ be in another few seconds.

Seth shrugged loosely,

"I mean, I guess we could see – ,"

Mark lit up and then interrupted swiftly to give the younger man a heavy handed slap that caught him with familial thanks on the shoulder but managed to knock him nearly clean onto the floor.

"You're doin' the right things boys, I won't let you down again."

Seth gaped,

"Whoa, I wasn't – ,"

But instead he tailed off and then shot a look at his bigger broader teammate who merely grunted back then waved his hand back hopelessly, like he was willing to go along with the sudden trajectory provided that nothing else horrible went wrong and which they both knew their third man would be pretty fucking pissed about but which the two of them had been skilfully crowbarred into.

 _Crap_.

Cesaro strode back to them and then placed the four beers down alongside a glossy black bottle of Scotch which was evidently an unopened bottle of some merit that he held up with pleasure like he was showing off his newborn son.

He slid four small glasses across the polished table,

"Black Bull, seventh batch, nearly forty years old, I've been holding onto this for a special occasion, but I figured since you're here, we could maybe have a drop?"

Seth snorted,

"Wow."

He was acting like a child on Christmas morning running around in his pyjamas to find a playmate for his toys and either because the grumbly veteran liked children or had a whisky fetish, Mark nodded back and then seized up one of the newly proffered tumblers before holding it out,

"Start pourin' son, I'm game."

Roman shook his head as the bottle swung his way and so did the younger man who pushed himself up, having realized that their teammate had been gone for fifteen minutes and starting to feel very lightly concerned.

"No, you're good man, I'm gonna go see where Dean is."

Roman looked up and then nodded,

"Uh huh."

Realistically their big dog would have liked to go with him, but since they weren't women they didn't head off to piss in pairs besides which the two of them sloping off together would probably have looked like they were going off somewhere to bitch and grumble about working with the veteran and his unpredictability for another full week. Seth sighed then raked his hair with his fingers in a stress relieving motion that he used from time to time and in that regard wasn't too unlike his middle brother although he had never scratched hard enough that he had made his skin bleed.

"Where the fuck are you man?"

He pushed into the bathroom and yelled out the question to nothing more than a baffled look, from a man who was quietly using the urinal and clearly not expected the nasally sounding shout.

Seth put an awkward hand up briefly,

"Whoa, uh, my apologies."

Seth even considered adding a helpful _carry on_ but instead wisely chose to head back into the hallway as he pulled out his cell and brought up his list of recent calls. Dean was close to the top of the list like always with Roman sitting pretty on the next line down and he tapped on it firmly and then clamped it to his earlobe as he stalked past the wide open and billowing exit door,

"Come on man."

Ringing notes slid down the phone line and he paused on hearing them like keep on moving might screw it up, before picking up a noise that was coming from behind him and sounded a lot like –

Flapping wings?

 _Shit_.

Many months earlier when they'd been crammed in a motel room and sharing a bed as they had tried to get some sleep, their copper blonde member had started a game up where the aim had been to match each other to what animal they would be. For some bizarre reason that he had stuck to resolutely, Dean had been convinced that their youngest man was a hummingbird and then, to fuck with him had immediately switched up his ringtone so that whenever Seth called him the damn thing sounded like a bird.

"Dean?"

Seth spun bodily towards the fire exit and then pushed his way through it into the alley beyond, where a bright square of light was pooled on the concrete but devoid of his teammate.

He hurried over and scooped it up.

Bits of loose crap and grit were stuck fast to it and the screen was cracked too like the thing had been thrown, which the younger man knew was a recent addition because whenever Dean broke or lost things he moaned about it to them. As his legs began to cramp up he slightly shuffled his position but in doing so his boot stuck something firm in the dark, then shunted it over the rough ground a little until it caught in the streetlamps.

"Oh no."

Dean's gun.

He didn't know what but something bad had happened and that realization made him fire up his phone light, which he used to cast frantically around in the darkness in case his brother was lying there injured in the dark, but which only lit up trash and their missing man's belongings.

Dean was gone.

He simply wasn't fucking there.

Bending down and gathering up the gun and cell phone, Seth turned around and darted back up through the door before blitzing past the guy he had disturbed at the urinal and who was heading towards the bar still wiping his damp hands.

"'Scuse me man."

Seth hustled him accidentally but didn't have time to stop and make things right and so instead had to listen to a muttered string of curses as he burst across the threshold and back into the crowded bar. It seemed to have filled with more patrons in his absence and had grown even louder,

Roman frowned as he charged up,

"Uce still in the bathroom?"

"No, shit – he's gone man."

Brown eyes narrowed and then darkened exponentially as the bigger man struggled to compute the babbled words and give them some context or meaning which he obviously failed at,

"What do you mean _gone_?"

In response to it the younger man placed down the cell phone which was still lightly covered in a layer of backstreet muck and then flapped the fold of his jacket very loosely to indicate the extra gun tucked into his belt.

Roman looked up in alarm,

"Where'd you find it?"

"In the alley out back."

"Any signs of a fight?"

Seth tapped at the phone screen with the tip of one finger before tracing the screen crack,

"Nope, nothing except this."

From where he sitting opposite them at the table and still sipping whisky from his bar-owning biggest fan, Mark seemed to sense that the mood around him was changing and looked up with a frown that filled his whole brow and which then drank in the broken cell sitting on the woodwork and the open flap of jacket bearing not one but two guns.

"Everythin' alright boys?"

Roman sucked his lip in and then bit on it heavily as he tried to find the words,

"Dean's gone."

"Are those his?"

Mark pointed towards the items and in reply the two teammates nodded in eerie tandem.

"Yep."

In reply to the confirmation Mark grit his teeth a little and the table around him very briefly fell still, the others holding their breath in a collective sort of intake like he would either have the answers or maybe know what to do but on which point they turned out to be way out of line on since kidnapped policeman had never been his call and so therefore the whole thing left him as clueless as they were.

He blinked at them slowly,

"You think the killer did this?"

Cesaro coughed a little on his whisky and then blinked in astonishment,

"Hold up _that's_ what this is?"

He was roundly ignored since his utter amazement was by no means important and so therefore could wait and _also_ since it didn't help them pin down their brother or who the hell had taken him, where and what for.

Seth grumbled fiercely,

"Who else would it be man? I mean, you were there when Dean took the damn call. Did it sound like our killer was all done talking before you slammed the phone down on him?"

He made a good point.

Mark however gaped in response to it and his features passed through several stunned looking shades, before settling on something a pantone swatch from magnolia as the weight of his screw up presumably sank in,

"You think he wanted to say somethin' else then?"

"I _know_ he fucking does and he's taken Dean to get it said."

Cesaro blinked in bafflement between them, slowly piecing things together,

"How did he know you guys were here?"

Mark slammed clenched fists down as the words floated past him and with a sudden surge of anger that made them all jump and knocked over the empty beers like a set of bowling skittles and nearly tipped over the rare whisky bottle as well.

Luckily Cesaro just managed to grab it.

"I bet you that crafty bastard has been followin' my ass and probably been doin' it since the second Steph called me and asked me to come back and help out on the job."

Roman frowned,

"Why do you think he would follow you?"

"Cat and mouse son, it's all part of the game, why do _you_ think?"

Roman opened his mouth to reply to him but Seth interrupted with a wave of his hands, which he held up briskly like he was appealing for silence or maybe some action or more likely common sense and which he managed to voice with his typical level headedness and deference to the language.

"So what's the fucking plan here?"

Roman was thankfully a little more articulate,

"Do you have any clue where this guy might hang out?"

Mark shook his head,

"I – I'm sorry fellers, but if I had the first idea then I would have finished him myself. I mean maybe back in the day I coulda had a stab at it but I haven't hunted this asshole for twenty five years now."

"So what about Dean?"

Seth issued the question bleakly and in return received nothing but a wall of worried looks and Roman reaching over to rub at his neck line in a comforting little gesture that for once didn't work. How the hell _could_ it when their brother was missing and likely in the hands of a total psychopath?

"Shit."

Seth groaned then wiped a hand across his features that briefly masked the sound of happy feet treading their way but could never have masked the voice that burst out broadly and cut through the reverie,

"Um, Detective Ambrose's friends?"

Just what they needed.

Roman blinked rapidly and then bit back a groan of bewilderment,

"Bo?"

In response to his surprise the chirpy moron merely waved at him and then giggled a little like someone had told a joke and which continued to tickle him as he offered his next sentence and offered out a scrap of paper that he had clenched in his palm,

"Detective Ambrose asked me to listen out for drug sales, but only a very complicated and sort of special kind."

"Sodium thiopental?"

He nodded,

"Oh, you know it?"

Mark grumbled across the table in growly tones,

"What have you got?"

Bo put a hand out and waggled the crunched up notelet which Roman had to battle to then get him to drop, like a puppy that had picked up something it shouldn't have or some teenager with a camera holding a box of tide pods.

Bo smiled broadly,

"Will Detective Ambrose be happy?"

Roman slowly unravelled the note then frowned at the four lines of scrawl set out before him that had clearly been written in someone else's hand but which seemed to pinpoint a building in the city and made him look up rapidly.

"Bo, what is this?"

An ear to ear beam burst back across the table,

"Oh, that's the address those bad drugs were sent to."

For a moment the policemen simply blinked at one another and then Seth answered for all of them with a hiss,

"Holy shit."

* * *

 **So, Bo saved the day at last! Or has he? Hmmm...we'll find out what has happened to Dean in the next chapter but don't be fooled folks, there' still a long way to go!**


	10. Danger Ahead

**Back to Dean in this chapter then plus some more clues and maybe a few answers but not too many because we still have a way to go. Your reviews make me smile like an idiot and boy have I needed some smiling material this week, so big big thank you to everyone who penned something and here's hoping you like this chapter too!**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Thank you! Lots happening in this instalment and drama and tension and the works I hope, so happy reading!**

 **Cheryl24, Bo? Haha, what a thought! But, uh, nope, sorry, freezing cold because I love my crazy little puppy Bobo far too much to make him a bad guy, besides, he can barely lace his own shoes at this point so murders are way beyond him (unless accidental I guess!)**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Actually, the place that Dean ends up in isn't as bad as some of the other places he's been stuck, but I'll be honest and say the company isn't perfect since...you know, it's a murderer and everything! Still, every cloud and all that jazz!**

 **Minnie1015, Bo is the best! I just finished writing a oneshot with him in it too, being massively unhelpful as usual, even though I am letting have one brief shining moment of brilliance here! He can have a pack on the head for the last chapter but otherwise it's back to normal!**

 **Mandy, Oh yeah, brotherly protectiveness coming your way! Especially next chapter when Seth has a moment where he's being really cute (in my eyes anyway, but the moment is kind of gross, oops, don't want to spoil the story so I'm going to shut up now!)**

 **LHisawesome4ever, I would imagine there is a therapist doing really well from Stephanie's various police officers, but I'm not sure Dean would ever go to therapy unless it was kicking and screaming of course! Remember his TV spot with the psychiatrist? I imagine it would be basically like that!**

 **Daisysakura, Aww, you love your hurt Dean as much as I do! Yay! Well, he sure is in a world of trouble in this chapter but he tries to 'Dean' his way through it as usual. Expect lots of brotherly love and concern in the chapters to follow too, the next one especially!**

 **Cherry619, Is there anything better than protective Seth and Roman? Nope. Nope I don't think there is and I'm totally glad you agree with that because we've sure got some coming up as we move through these coming chapters. Yep, still a nice set of twists still to go!**

 **Derick lindsey, I won't lie, hurt Dean and protective brothers is my catnip and it's so much sadistic fun to write so, you got me, it happens in my stories a fair bit, but there's always room for a twist in there somewhere so hopefully I can still surprise you somewhere!**

 **Skovko, Oh god, the image of superhero Bo is too much to handle! But what would his superhero name be though? Hmmm. I liked the idea of Cesaro being a fan boy too, I mean, he's such a grinning kid and so happy all the time that I certainly thought it hit with him!**

 **Leigh-Annette, Hey there, thanks for stopping in and yay, another fan for the puppy Bo train! Rest assured, hurt Dean on the way along with the comforting fussing brother goodness that makes it worthwhile...or at least I hope makes it worthwhile!**

 **Back to Dean then...**

* * *

 **Danger Ahead**

Dean was marched like some prize winning poodle through a continually twisting sequence of black and hushed streets, the two of them passing beneath the warmth of the streetlamps in a continuous exchange between electric brightness and then dark.

People were scuttling along the sidewalk all around them and laughing and drinking or clinging fast to their sober friends, but since the weather was bitter and wintry they were far too focussed on getting inside again to pay even a flicker of attention to them. Then there was the fact that Dean was walking with a giant who had an actual _white eyeball_ which hardly helped much, since he was literally the type of guy that would have made kids run off screaming and so therefore was not a face that people tried to look at too hard.

The gun dug hard into his back against his spinal cord –

Far too close though which was a rookie mistake.

In theory if he had gathered the speed and the momentum, then Dean could have swung and knocked the weapon from his hand and in that way managed to make the playing field more even, but with people on streets he couldn't risk an errant round.

Instead he decided to try and make light chitchat,

"So where're we goin' man? Is it – is it somewhere kinda far?"

In response the killer grunted,

"Keep walking, we're almost there now."

Dean felt pretty much like he was walking to his death and the thought wasn't helped when they took the final corner and spun into a narrow space shadowed between two buildings and which was frankly the sort of place he knew the strangler liked to work.

"Uh, hey, you sure this is the way, or – ,"

"Get moving."

Dean was propelled forwards with the tip of the gun and in spite of the fact they were suddenly isolated it turned out their killer wasn't as stupid as he looked because he suddenly backed away out of the reach of swinging forearms and also out of reach of letting the tables turn.

Fuck.

Reluctantly the copper blonde stumbled on forwards, with _stumbled_ being the appropriate word, since without the warm streetlamps the path became swallowed and then totally lost in the unrelenting gloom.

Dean kicked something and then almost fell over,

"Whoa – ,"

Big fingers shot out and caught the back of his shirt, hauling him upright with a surprising dexterity for a man who liked to break or kill most of the things he touched.

"Stop."

Dean reacted to the command with a judder since it barked out around them and echoed back in off the walls but then got the sense that there was something in front of him and so lifted his hands and planted them onto a wooden gate.

His fingers found a latch,

"Uh, so – like – what now man? We goin' through this or are we – ,"

"Open it."

 _Crap_.

Evidently their killer was a man of few syllables but he grunted in what sounded like a modicum of pleasure as the copper blonde turned the lock and then pushed his way past, tensing his whole body for some weird torture dungeon or a blood covered shack –

But finding instead a yard.

"The fuck?"

In front of him there were borders and pot plants and a little wooden table with scraps put out for the birds and in one little corner there was even an arbour shaded beneath the overhang of some brightly colored shrub. The place was admittedly overlooked by dank apartments which seemed to look up on nearly every side, but in terms of hidden gems and real estate markets, it was a tiny oasis and so therefore a real find.

The killer grunted and then grabbed hold of Dean's collar before pushing him forward and then through a door into what turned out to be a ground level apartment that had a miniscule floorspace and had clearly been purchased for the yard.

"Sit down."

It wasn't so much an invitation as an order, since the policeman was positively flung into a chair, landing with a startled sounding snort of disgruntlement as a threadbare brown couch from at least the nineteen seventies and covered into flowered material collided with his chest.

"Ow."

In the time it took him to scramble back upright – or at least into something resembling a sit – the killer had pulled a hard backed chair from the kitchen and positioned himself on it so that he could resume his white eyed stare.

Dean waved a finger,

"So, why is it that color?"

He wasn't really sure if it was safe ground to tread considering the gun hung between the killer's kneecaps but he figured at least if he could get the guy talking then it would maybe waste some time before his brothers bust in, because naturally they would and no fucking doubt about it –

Dean just wasn't sure when it would be or how long.

In the interim therefore he pressed on with his topic and the eerie white eyeball,

"Was it an accident or what?"

"I got into a fight as a kid and it just happened, the body repairing."

Dean hadn't expected an answer back and so blinked a little in response to the gruff tones before tilting his head mildly because they sounded kind of _loose_ , like the guy was simply shooting the breeze with his buddy although it didn't stop the dangerous undertones from seeping through. He was smirking as well, or maybe that was his resting face?

Either way it looked damn creepy and the killer knew it too.

Dean huffed a breath out,

"Why m' I here man?"

If he was going to ask questions then that seemed like the most straightforward place with which to start and so he spat it out managing to sound pretty angry, since not only was he sitting having to stare down a murderer but he had also been kidnapped and potentially marched to his doom.

No damn way was he going down easy.

"I told you on the phone. You don't know the truth."

"So you're gonna give it to me, huh?" Dean raised a brow at him, "Full confession an' all that show? Because in that case m' gonna need a pen an' some paper."

He received a wry snort for his troubles,

"You hung up."

Shit.

"Hey, no, that wasn't my call alright?"

He was struggling to tell if the killer was pissed at him or merely stating the run of events or potentially even getting his kicks by fucking with him since who the hell knew what was going on in the big head? Because while the ugly face was still white eyed and fearsome, the man was also continuing to wear the little smirk that looked caught halfway between being fuelled malice and a type of amusement.

Possibly both?

In short the guy was like some asshole of a tom cat who had captured a mouse and was batting it round the room and the copper blonde shuddered with a deep weight of distastefulness as he figured that was probably how the former victims would have felt.

"I know," the strangler grunted back, "It was Calaway."

"Wait, you know him?"

"How could I not?"

"You mean from back on the first case and the papers an' that shit?"

Blowing out a sigh that turned into a grumble, the big guy settled back with a creaking of the chair, then looked across while forgetting to keep blinking which based on the twenty-something minutes they'd spent together was a problem that the asshole seemed to suffer from a bunch.

Who in the hell forgot to _blink_ for fuck sakes?

"He told me to,"

"Huh?" Dean looked up baffled, "Who told you what?"

"He said we should kill."

It wasn't really obvious from the shortly spat out sentence if he was talking about a person or else some vision in his head, considering he had sworn that he didn't hear voices so maybe he thought his psychosis induced enabler was real?

Perhaps he was even stood in the room with them?

Not a happy thought.

"I was a normal kid once, maybe not normal like other children my age but I never hurt things, even though I wanted to sometimes. I kept it buried deep down though, deep, _deep_ down."

He struck himself suddenly from out of the blue, pounding a big meaty fist against his breastbone like the notion was one that he frequently struggled with and it caught Dean by surprise because he seemed almost _conflicted_ or at least aware that murder was a terrible thing and therefore something he should have kept himself away from.

For all _that_ had worked.

"Uh, so, when did that change?"

"When I met him."

Evidently they were back to his imaginary friend again and in turn the copper blonde nodded his head very slowly and then looked around the space.

"Is – is this guy here?"

It was probably the first time he had taken in his surroundings, the design features of which left a lot to be desired since the tiny little space that housed a kitchen and living room was clad in wallpaper that had gone out with moon boots, in lurid browns and vomit colored yellows and which heavily implied someone had lived there a long time.

In response to the question the killer screwed his face up like _he_ was the crazy one.

"No he's isn't here, I haven't seen his ass for twenty five years now."

"What?"

Dean was nothing if not hopelessly lost because if some spooky figure had been driving on the killings then why was the asshole killing again now and how in the world did it count as psychosis if he _wasn't_ hearing things or following orders from a ghost?

None of it made any damn sense.

Not a stitch of it.

But clearly their killer was unaware of that fact since he merely tipped his head to the other side in a thoughtful gesture before grunting a little,

"He was dark inside like me, but he was worse, he liked watching living things crumble, he liked to hear the screaming when they knew their time was up."

Dean's skin crawled and he growled the word out,

"Fucker – ,"

In order to raise the tension the bald murderer grinned back and then let out a laugh that was so fucking creepy it was like he had been practising in his bedroom at night, with a black and white horror film on pause for helpful pointers or the reanimated corpse of Vincent Price by his side.

"You think it's so wrong?"

"Kidnappin' women kickin' an' screamin' before wrappin' rope around their necks an' fuckin' stranglin' 'em to death? Yeah, you're right man, I think it's totally messed up an' here's the freakin' newsflash, so does everybody else."

In the blink of an eye the gun was trained back on his forehead and he froze like a god damn popsicle.

Fuck.

For the most part Seth usually had to remind his ass daily that there were times when it best to keep his tongue in his head, but without him there or in his ear on surveillance it was hard to remember.

But the firearm made it clear.

"Hey now – ,"

"That was him," the bulky killer snapped out, through teeth that were gritted against bubbling rage. His free hand reached up and clawed at his features like he was trying to quell the voices or scratch the skin off his face and briefly Dean sympathized because he knew what that felt like.

Except that he was not a murderer.

He swallowed a shaky breath down then held his hands up again,

"Ignore me, okay? I talk a lot of shit sometimes, my brothers are always sayin' – ,"

"I had a brother once."

"Huh?"

It seemed that just as quickly as the ferocity had risen, it had peaked and then seemingly shrivelled back up and Dean blew a sigh out as loud as he dared to as the gun trembled briefly then once more fell between the legs, still locked and loaded but not pointed at him which was definite a plus.

 _Hurry the fuck up boys_.

"I said I had a brother – half brother actually – but I guess that's one and the same thing right? My mother used to send me to spend the summer out with them but I didn't like it there and neither did he. Real religious folks. They thought I was the devil. His mother used to call us Cain and Abel. Do you know why?"

Dean paused,

"No."

"Because they said I was the bad one and their son – my half brother – was the better one of us. But they didn't know what I knew about him."

"Which was what man?"

"He taught me everything I know."

Dean faltered then because the sentence sounded leading like he was supposed to read into it, only he had no fucking clue and no real concept of where to even start with it since he was lost and knee-deep in rambling killer weird ass talk.

He scratched at his neck,

"So was he a murderer too, huh? Like some family trade you got goin' on here?"

Big teeth glinted back in mild amusement and then the murderer glowered so darkly that he blended into the room and became at one with the eerily long shadows until only his one white eyeball showed,

"Oh you have _no_ idea."

Dean spread his hands wide,

"I need you to level with me, okay man, because you're not exactly givin' me much to go on. I mean, I figure you must have dragged my ass here for a reason, but I'll be honest an' say I don't know what it is. What do you _want_ from me?"

The answer was simple –

Except it wasn't because it didn't make any sense, like everything else the bastard had lectured on, from imaginary enablers to creepy brothers and religious friends.

"I wanted someone to truly see me."

"Well good news, because I've been lookin' at you for the last half hour now."

"But can you really _see_ me?"

Dean blinked,

"You're kinda hard to miss y' know? Eight foot tall, big egg shaped bald head."

In response to the flippancy and borderline annoyance, since the copper blonde nearly always got angry when he was stressed, the killer snorted loosely and repeated the weird head tilt like a dog that was trying to figure a new command out or considering simply trying to rip his owner's throat out.

The strangler snorted a little,

"Why have I changed what I do?"

"With your skin care routine? I mean what are we talkin' about?"

In the half light something long, thin and shiny was held up and it glinted in the fierce orange glow of the lampshade and turn the lawman's stomach.

He was holding a syringe.

"Why have I changed the way I capture my victims?"

Dean blinked back.

He had no freaking idea.

Initially they had come up with a whole bunch of reasons, from the killer getting too old and decrepit to grab people but which was quite categorically _not_ the fucking case at all, to it being someone else like the son of the first guy which was also evidently a pretty bad misfire.

So then why _had_ he changed things?

Dean shrugged,

"I couldn't tell you."

"Isn't that the kind of thing they pay you to find out?"

"Actually they pay me to try and find killers."

"Well congratulations because here I am."

But in spite of the grin that accompanied the statement, there was something in the murderous eyes that stayed dull and made Dean recall their short phone conversation from earlier and the fact that the man who had hit them up to gloat had instead seemed uncertain or like he needed to say something.

But what the hell was it?

Dean took his chance and slid himself slightly towards the edge of the cushions in as slow non-threatening a move as could, keeping his hands up but fixing his gaze forwards and then burning his blue orbs in across the room and locking them onto the one dark, one white one as he blew out a breath and then spoke in steady tones,

"Tell me why I'm here."

"I – I don't want the blame for this, not everything anyway because that's not how it went down."

"So how did it go down?"

"I told you, he made me do it and then he wrapped the cord and pulled while I held them down."

Fuck.

Dean let his eyes flicker shit very briefly and then bit his tongue so hard a drop of blood crept out and painted his taste buds with the sharp tang of copper as he tried not to visualize the murders too much or how fucking terrified the poor damn girls would had been.

He needed to stay calm.

 _Roman-level_ calm.

"Why did you stop killin' twenty five years back?"

"I stopped because he left me, he – he wanted to take care of his son," the killer paused and then snorted wryly, "He said he didn't need it because the anger was all out but I never bought that. It can never be over or gone from the kind of people we are."

Dean frowned,

 _Son_?

Maybe the friend _wasn't_ some figment because as far as he knew ghosts didn't have babies or rearrange their priorities to do less haunting of folk and in response to _that_ thought a growing shiver ran over him because what if he was saying he hadn't been the only one? What if he was saying there had been another killer and they had worked as a double act?

His heart thudded.

Holy fuck.

But it would have explained why he had switched up his method since he was working single handed on his second go around and it would also have explained why no victims had escaped the first time, since it would have been impossible to trick and out-run a killer pair.

Dean gaped in horror,

"Are you sayin' there were _two_ of you?"

Hearing it said aloud seemed to piss the man off and in reply the gun rose in a sudden flash of anger but then wobbled like he knew there was no going back or maybe like he had been waiting twenty five years to tell someone and getting it off his chest was some kind of a relief.

" _He_ killed the first ones."

Dean raised his hands,

"Easy, how 'bout you tell me who this guy is first huh?"

Bizarrely the suggestion drew a flicker of raw panic then another burst of fury that lifted the gun, before that too died off and was replaced by desolation as the big ass _serial killer_ inched towards a breakdown, which Dean was by strokes both ready to deal with and at the same time so totally out of his depth,

"I can't – ,"

"But that's why you grabbed me, right man? You wanna right wrongs here? Let people know the truth about this shit?"

He knew he was close, he could practically feel it and the killer could too because he let the gun fall, turning instead in the chair to rock a little and grip his thumping but still oversized head, like the bellowing inside it was getting too much for him.

His reply was a grumble,

"I couldn't take it."

"Take what?"

"Everyone seeing him as some big hero and the good one when it's never _never_ been true."

Dean frowned at him,

"What the hell does that mean?"

But whatever further thought was hanging from the sentence was swiftly swept away by a sudden noise outside and as Dean swung towards it, the killer started moving with a startling turn of pace that scared the crap out of him and returned the damn gun to the copper blonde temple as his kidnapper hauled him upright then wrapped an arm around his neck, pressing on his windpipe and pushing him towards the door in the direction of the cute and well-kept little yard,

"What was that noise?"

"How the hell do I know?"

In his head though he was screaming for Roman and Seth and nor was his ass disappointed on that front –

Except his big dramatic rescue by no means turned out as planned.

* * *

 **All the drama in the next chapter folks, all the drama...plus,** **a twist?**


	11. Everyone's Born To Die

**So, I think a lot of you have the killer pegged by now but I'm hopefully throwing a bit of a twist into this chapter or at least something that maybe you didn't see coming...or maybe you have...I'm not sure, either way I hope you enjoy it!**

 **Sodapop25, Thank you, I promised lots of drama and I hope I'm delivering on that. Look away now if you don't like gore by the way, I'm pretty explicit in this chapter (for me anyway!)**

 **Cheryl24, Maybe I did...maybe I didn't *twirls evil moustache* either way there's still some twists and turns to come first and of course, our boys still need to figure out what the hell is happening because they're in the dark and that gets even darker in this chapter because I never make it easy!**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Thank you, I'm really proud of how this chapter turned out, so with any luck this might be one of the best yet (unless I'm way off base) so happy reading (except probably not because it's not a happy chapter but you get what I mean!)**

 **Mandy, Keep smiling lovely, because you never know what's around the corner, there's always something positive waiting somewhere but sometimes it takes a sweet while to come! Hopefully this chapter can take your blues away too, it's certainly busy if nothing else!**

 **SkittlezLvr79, No, for a killer he keeps a pretty nice (if outdated) place. They could almost have been sharing a pot of tea! Hmm, I do have a bit of twist here...maybe, but I doubt it will shake your rock solid belief in the killer! You never know though…**

 **Jcott3, The plot thickens indeed and I hope it gets so thick in this chapter that it turns into butter! But yeah, still a way to go before the boys figure out what's happening and there's a whole lot of drama waiting to be unleashed before we get to the end, so hold onto your hat!**

 **Minnie1015, I'm hopeless at riddles. No clue at all so I'm with Dean (and you) on this one totally. Stupid killer not saying what he means. Brace yourself though, because there's more of that here, kinda...before it all goes to hell that is!**

 **Daisysakura, Haha, well, I can give you a little hurt Dean in this one, sort of, but mentally traumatised Dean also makes an appearance if that's enough? Always happy to leave on a cliffhanger or a question so happy you're a fan (I imagine that it drives some people nuts!)**

 **Raze Olympus, Haha, well, still not saying anything but I think the clues are all there. But don't count your chickens too soon yet, because we've got lots happening in this chapter which maybe you didn't expect. I'm still trying to keep you guys on your toes!**

 **Cherry619, Your wish is my command! Here is the next chapter and (hopefully) even better it picks straight up from the last one so we're right back into the thick of things again. I know that last one was tense, but in this one I turn it up to eleven. Hope you like it!**

 **Skovko, Well, your theory is probably set in stone by now, but hopefully I still have the power to surprise you so I'm gonna test that out with what comes next. If nothing else though, at least there's some drama/sort of action here, so the pace is stepping up!**

 **RightBackAtItAgain, Well hello there! Thanks for reviewing and I'm super glad it's keeping you on your toes! I love to throw in a few twists a** **nd unexpected things and this chapter coming up is no exception (I hope). Plenty left in this story yet though so get comfy!**

 **Rebel8954, Ooh, hope you had a lovely vacation! Thought maybe I had driven you off! Not going to confirm or deny suspicions quite yet but I can say that in this case Mark's son is just Mark's son (IRL). Dean has his own deadbeat father I'm toying with introducing maybe at some point?!**

 **Back to it then...**

* * *

 **Everyone's Born To Die**

Dean was shunted roughly through into the yard space in a tangle of heavy limbs that made him look trashed but which could hardly be avoided since the bastard behind him had an arm around his neck and was tipping him back so that the copper blonde curls pillowed over the big shoulder but which forced him to walk with a bizarre looking gait.

Bizarre and fucking _painful_ too for that matter because it felt like his spine was being bent the wrong way.

He winced in response,

"Fuck."

His feet were feeling the way slowly for the most part since he was being half forced to look up at the black sky and the gun at his temple was a constant reminder not to try and correct that or consider getting free. It also meant that Dean couldn't see where he was going but rather than spotting the flaw in that concept the gun-toting killer simply tried to prod him on, pushing and grunting in a furious building panic that the copper blonde could feel pumping deep from the guy's chest.

Insane as it was, the brutal murderer was frightened and not making things easier for either of them,

"Shit."

Dean stumbled on a loose chip of stonework in the darkness and nearly lost his footing which made the pinning forearm become more tight but worryingly so to the point it half choked him although his kidnapper barely noticed,

"Did you call the cops?"

"On fuckin' _what_ man? You made me ditch my phone remember?"

"I know it's them out there."

"I can't hear anythin'."

Dean clamped hard on his tongue as he said the words though because up on the brick walls of the buildings that surrounded them, he could see the tell-tale blue haze of flashing police lights which bounced off the surfaces and up into the darkness and therefore meant that the cavalry had arrived. Unless they hadn't and he was totally way off base with it and instead his salvation was an ambulance instead, there to collect some poor bastard who'd had a heart attack or a fire truck come to pluck a cat from a tree.

The Strangler shook him harshly,

"Open the gate."

"You wanna go out there?"

Dean felt his stomach flip over a little bit because the last thing they needed was a paranoid killer blundering back out onto the street and brandishing the gun he was keeping a wobbly hold on but was right on the cusp of triggering in pure alarm.

Dean wet his lips,

"Look man, it's nothin', we were havin' ourselves a nice talk back there okay? So why don't we just go back inside and – ,"

" _Open it_."

His primeval roar of a bellow blew the roof off or would have done had they not been stood underneath the stars, but either way it underlined the fact the guy was _not_ playing and was about thirty seconds out from losing his entire freaking mind.

Dean lifted a hand up and groped for the mechanism,

"Okay man, geez, no need to lose your shit here."

He fumbled in the blackness and thunked the lock backwards before flinging the little painted gate open wide and wondering how in the world a man of such brutality could have cared for and cultivated such a well-loved patch of earth. In essence it looked like any other city backyard and the type of place a family could have happily hung out.

Maybe once upon a time the garden even _had_ been since it wasn't like the guy had simply fallen from outer space and so therefore it was pretty much entirely conceivable that the lush green patch had once belonged to someone else and that he had maintained it in memorial to them or perhaps on their behalf.

He had mentioned a mother right?

"Move."

Dean was pushed and then forced into walking by the muscled heaving gut still pressed to his spine and so trod a halting path back into the black alleyway with the gun barrel trembling at his temple.

Not good.

Before they even made it to the end of the passageway the fact that the police were there became startlingly clear since the world beyond the alley was perforated by noises, including car doors slamming, hurried footsteps and _cop_ sounds, which the copper blonde knew with the sort of natural intuition that made mother penguins able to find their babies in a million strong crowd.

Buying the documentary channels had totally been worth the money because who didn't love cool animal facts like that?

Inches from where the passageway met the street again Dean planted his heels and refused to carry on and in response to it the killer slammed into the back of him and nearly pushed him over and which made them both huff.

"What are you doing? I said to keep moving."

"No," Dean responded, pushing back against the bulk, "You go out there holdin' a gun to my head like this and there's only one fuckin' way that this shit goes down."

"Isn't that what you want?"

"Not like this."

"But I'm a killer."

Dean grunted as the bigger man tried hard to push him on and then levered himself back as far as he was able to grind them in place for as long as he could, because there was still so much more that hadn't been answered and if the cops blew his brains out then it would never be resolved and twenty five years of mystery would die with him.

He couldn't let that happen.

"Look, hold on a second man."

But evidently the time for talking was long past them because instead of reply the big killer gave him a shunt that propelled them both back out beneath the streetlights and into a blinding and frantic looking world.

Flashing blue patrol cars were blocking the street at each end and creating the bright reflections he had seen on the walls. More police were gathered in a cluster beyond them and parked in front of the building opposite was a tactical truck as well. Its inhabitants at first seemed to be non-existent but peering into the night revealed them scattered all around and crouched behind cars or tucked into doorways with their kevlar helmets on and sniper rifles aimed high.

Dean watched them tense as he was forced into the open and the gun barrels quivered and then focused on him.

Great.

Not that _his_ ass was the target they were after since that notable distinction went to the man at his back who was still pushing his big bulk further from the passageway so that everyone could see them.

Dean kept his hands up.

"Easy man, m' tellin' you not to do anythin' stupid."

Besides for example, kidnapping a cop.

In reply to him the killer snorted a breath out so harshly that it blew an unpleasant breeze over his neck and ruffled the loose and unkempt copper blonde tassels that were creeping their way down towards the back of his neck and which reminded him idly that he needed a haircut.

Dean hated haircuts.

"Drop the gun and step back."

Big broad tones boomed through the night towards them and made his heart leap in happiness because he would have known the notes deaf since they belonged to the bigger and more even of his brothers but were laced with a malice that he didn't often hear.

 _Uce_?

Dean scanned the watching crowd carefully, blue eyes drinking in the myriad faces in the dark then instantly ignoring the ones he didn't recognize before landing on two worried expressions peering back and looking over from the scanty cover of a parked up saloon car.

He blew a breath out in relief,

"Thank fuck for that."

Not surprisingly however the psychotic killer behind him was less impressed with the impromptu wealth of guests, since he tightened his forearm then closed his fingers around the gun grip before barking a reply that sounded out of its depth.

"Step back or I'll kill him. I'm not fooling around here. I promise I will paint his blood on the walls."

"Geez man graphic much?" Dean struggled against the chokehold, "I told you already to calm the fuck down, because no one wins here if they blow your freakin' brains out and that includes you."

It would also include _him_ because shooting the guy outright would run the possibility that a last minute movement might put the bullet through _his_ head or else would carve a hole through his chest cavity.

Neither of those things seemed a palatable option and Seth clearly agreed,

"Put it down man, we're giving you a chance."

Both his brothers looked totally in control of things, pointing their weapons over the top of their shield and glaring across the space like they were cool as cucumbers and weren't simultaneously losing their shit.

Dean knew they would be though.

Knew it and felt it.

Because no way in hell would they have been easy breezy with the knowledge that their teammate had been kidnapped and hauled off and they sure as _hell_ would not have been satisfied by sight of the fucking gun pressed to his head. Dean swallowed briefly and his younger brother saw it and then quickly screwed his face up in fury,

"Let him _go_."

Roman stepped forward too from his covered position in an instinctive little movement that was fuelled by broiling hate and in response to him the members of the tactical team shifted in a way that ramped the tension right up to boiling point. Dean could practically hear the fucking gunshots but he couldn't let them happen,

He strained against the grip,

"Listen to me an' I need you to listen hard here because I didn't go through this shit to watch 'em pop you in the head."

Forcing the forearm as low as he could make it he flapped his arms wildly then turned his body in the grip so that the chokehold slid instead to a point at the back of him and so that the oversized kidnapper and himself were face to face.

 _Too fucking close_.

Being pressed so close to the features of the big guy was a startling sensation to say the very least because of the white eye that had been eerie at a distance was the stuff of freaking nightmares when pressed in close, but which was also weirdly lulling like it had some sort of pull to it or was perhaps a milky, red rimmed crystal ball.

Dean wet his lips and stifled a sharp intake,

"Trust me, this isn't how you want shit goin' down. I mean there's no fuckin' glory in takin' a bullet to the forehead so I'm gonna need you to try an' work with me here man, alright?"

His kidnapper stared blankly and returned to not blinking.

Perfect.

"I'm not afraid of dying."

"Is that right, huh?"

It wasn't of course so far as he could figure it because the big man was trembling like a fucking newborn lamb and his gaze was fuzzy and bouncing all around him as he took in the police who were staring back in swarms. More strongly than ever Dean bought into the notion that the guy had worked by tag team before, since his bewilderment in the face of the law was palpable and not swaggering like every other killer Dean had ever known. He was big and brawny sure and so therefore when he was murdering and in total control he was a masterful brute but there was also something lost and sort of _clueless_ about him like he was missing a rudder in the form of his second man.

Dean shook his head,

"Don't gimme that crap dude. I mean you're not shakin' because you forgot your freakin' _jacket_ y' know? An' besides I totally fuckin' get it okay man? But that's why I wanna help."

The killer blinked back at him and then snorted wryly,

"You wanna help me?"

Dean bit back that the real answer was a _hell no_ and that in reality he wanted to punch the hideous face because he didn't feel that in scheme of things being honest would much help them and so instead he nodded,

"I wanna help get the truth sure, an' as far as I can figure it you're the guy that knows what happened."

Behind them a boot sole crunched on the asphalt and the killer lifted his gun and pointed it up with a startled blink that in turn made every other weapon in attendance bristle and snap.

Fuck.

Dean hurriedly flung out his hands, turning in the newly loosened grip towards his colleagues and bellowing at every one of them,

"Whoa take it easy, alright? Don't go gettin' all twitchy and shooty on me."

Bewildered looking tactical officers blinked back across the distance in measures of uncertainty that the copper blonde understood since the situation they were embroiled in was not in any training book purely for the reason that it was totally fucked up.

Roman and Seth were blinking back at him also and –

Hold up.

Where in the hell was Mark?

Had they seriously not called him to let him know what was happening and that the suspect he had been chasing for the best part of three decades was finally on the fringes of being genuinely caught?

He spun back around,

"Come on man, give it up now. I mean you wanted me here to get the truth out there, right? Well m' here an' m' listenin' but you gotta be straight with me, you need to give me a real fuckin' name. Who was your buddy the first time you were killin'? Who was the one that strangled those girls?"

He was greeted with a tentative little expression,

"I – ,"

" _C' mon man_."

Dean bellowed the words right into his face which made the gun press in harder to his temple, but which he barely even noticed he was so pulsed with rage and seconds away from getting the truth of things.

Nothing else even existed except himself and their guy,

"You – you'll make sure he's punished?"

Dean nodded,

"You know I will, so now tell me the damn name."

Feet shuffled behind them and without even looking, Dean threw a hand out to stop the tactical unit from creeping in, because he couldn't risk a sudden shot or their killer getting antsy when he was practically close enough that he could almost _taste_ the truth. He could hear his heartbeat thudding in his brainstem and his blood was rushing and pumping like mad but he managed to fight it long enough to nod his head a little and then wave a hand in a gesture of encouragement in the direction of the hesitant bald headed man.

" _Give me a name_."

In reply the killer opened his mouth up,

"It was – ,"

He was cut off by the bang of a gun as a single bullet pierced the air out of nowhere and then hammered home a round that carved a path through his skull, tunnelling a perfect little hole through the cranium, the force of which fully blew the brutish killer back and sprayed a gruesome arc of blood beneath the streetlamps that exploded from the wound site right across the captive man.

"Fuck, _no_."

Dean screwed his eyes tight as the horrible backwash splattered over his face then opened them back up just in time to witness the big burly murderer begin to tilt and fall, toppling like a redwood felled from the bottom in a perfectly straight flop before hitting the sidewalk hard.

His gun skittered off.

Dean blinked,

What had just happened?

He was moving before he even registered that he was, trampling on his numbed legs over the concrete then dropping onto his knees beside the clearly dead man, but for some reason going through the motions of first aid care in checking his pulse and then banging on his chest.

"No, fuckin' _no_ , god damn it _c' mon_ man – ,"

He could feel the splashed blood beading grimly down his face but in his total incomprehension had forgotten that it was plasma and so simply raised his cuff up to try and swipe it off which then merely smeared the stuff further and thicker and filled the cold air with its grim metallic tang.

He continued with chest compressions,

"C' mon, c' mon, _fuck_ this – ,"

Hands gripped his shoulders but he shrugged them off,

"Babe, stop."

He launched to his feet not even hearing the gruff tones and then whirled towards the speechless brigade of onlooking cops, swearing and waving his hands in frustration as he screamed across the block at them,

"Who the fuck shot? Which one of you no good fuckin' assholes was it? I told you not to shoot. I fuckin' told you not to shoot –,"

" _Uce_."

Roman suddenly encircled him in a bear hug which pinned his flailing arms to his side, but which he then followed up by pressing his forehead into the birds' nest and rumbling tiny soothing words he could barely hear.

"Hey," Seth popped up right in his eyeline and reached in gloved hands to cup the spattered face, "Easy brother, take it easy, we're right here, we got you, we got you."

Dean blinked at him,

"He's dead."

"Yeah, we know man."

"He was goin' to tell me."

"Tell you what?"

But for once Dean couldn't find the words or frankly the ability to do anything beyond blinking since even his legs were wobbling like mad and he felt pretty sure that were it not for the big man draped over his back cat-like then he would have been on the floor and laid out next to the killer like a bone bag.

"Whoa, it's okay."

Seth was rubbing at his face, brandishing a tissue he had pulled out of nowhere and using it to gently mop the blood from his skin in the same way a mother might do to a toddler who had stuck their entire head into a chocolate pudding cup.

Except for the fact that he wasn't wearing pudding –

He was wearing the bodily fluids of a serial killer instead.

"F-fuck."

It was a spluttered out word that went unchallenged as his teammates instead continued to minister to his wounds, not that he had any of them _physically_ speaking but on the mental side of things he felt totally fucked or else like he had maybe been drugged up his eyeballs or been out drinking.

He was totally shocked.

Seth moved the red stained tissue to his sleeve cuffs and then onto his hands which were also painted with blood and the blue eyes watched him do it in a daydream until they barely even noticed when another person thundered up, fresh from having been stood holding the crowd back but obviously having heard the gunshot go off.

Mark blinked around in astonishment,

"My god boys, what the hell happened?"

"That's what we'd like to know," Seth replied bluntly still cleaning his teammate to the best of his abilities and fighting his anger back, "One minute we're all just waiting for the signal and the next thing we know the guy looks like that."

He pointed distastefully down towards the body and the veteran peered at it,

"So that's our guy, huh?"

Roman nodded and loosened his arms a little as his copper blonde brother went back to standing by himself although a little like a newborn deer and kind of wobbly but upright nonetheless and under his own strength.

"Looks like it."

"Bastard."

Mark made a move towards him and for a minute it looked like he would kick out at the guy, but instead he simply squatted down low beside the murderer and then swept off his hat like he was paying his last respects. Maybe he was sorry he'd missed his opportunity to do the deed himself?

Seth blinked at him,

"You okay man?"

Mark chuckled a little but it wasn't a happy sound,

"Never thought I'd see the day this guy bit the dust."

Dean stood in bewilderment and then shook his head a little, except the motion was lost in the thick black night-time light and by the fact that the other cops had moved to crowd around the body, peering down in measures of shock and bewilderment as they drank in the features of pure evil for the first time.

He tried again,

"It – it wasn't just him though."

Dean still sounded almost totally out of it and so he coughed in a sudden harsh clearing of his throat, which brought the attentions back solidly his direction and in particular a frown from the youngest of their team.

"What do you mean man?"

"I mean twenty five years ago," Dean wet his lips, "He was part of a pair."

* * *

 **Come on, give it to me straight now, was anyone expecting our strangler to be blown to bits? And will the boys ever work out what the hell is happening?**

 **You know where to come in three days time...**


	12. Endless Lies

**Lots of theories floating around out there and it's super fun for me to read them all. Not saying that any of them are completely right at the moment but seems like a lot of you are on the right lines. One or two little answers for you in this one but the chapters after this one are were the precious answers are so not much longer to go before we get there (but lots of drama on the way!)**

 **Raze Olympus, Haha, rather you calling The Undertaker a bitch than me *shakes hand* it has been really nice to know you, besides, maybe you've got it totally wrong and Mark is a really lovely man that rescues kittens from trees in his spare time? Maybe?**

 **Mandy, Aww, you're welcome my lovely. Yep, life can be tough and blue so we have to cling onto the things that make us smile (plus I'm pretty sure Dean will be back soon, so that's keeping me smiling) Love me some worried mother hen Seth, so there's a little more here too!**

 **Cheryl24, Mark is a riddle wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a...lettuce leaf (I ran out of mysterious things for him to be wrapped in, sorry, it's late). But it's safe to say there are a few more things left to uncover before we work out what's happening here!**

 **Minnie1015, Well, you might have to go easy on Dean in this one because he's tired, he's a little bit drunk, he's splattered in killer blood and so therefore his policing skills are lacking somewhat. Still, plenty of time for them to crack the case yet...whatever it turns out to be of course!**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Hmmm, well, the next couple of chapters should prove your theory one way or the other but there's still time to change your mind before the big, super, final no-going back reveal so even though you're pretty set, I'll let that option on the table *nudges it a little* there you go!**

 **Guest, Thank you, coming to the heap big drama end of it now where all the pieces will start jigsawing together...except for this chapter where they're still trying to make it all fit!**

 **Kirrak, Thank you and yep, gotta have some hurt Dean in there, even if he isn't physically hurt I figure that shaken, blood spattered Dean is good enough anything that gets his boys good and motherly is my kind of thing. Maybe some more of that to come? Maybe. Don't quote me….**

 **Derick Lindsey, Okay good news and bad news. The good news if you didn't miss the reveal yet, the bad news is that's because it's not in this one (** _ **completely**_ **anyway bits will be...sort of) but on the plus side you'll be there the moment it begins to come together in the next chapter! Yay?!**

 **Cherry619, Hmm, you might be kind of right or at least have more of an inkling by the end of this chapter or maybe not...I feel like the riddler writing this story, never wanting to give too much away! But either way we're coming up to the big reveal chapters so soon we'll all know!**

 **Guest (Skovko, is that you?) Yep, Dean held it together pretty nicely which I figure he can do when he really has to be in charge, I mean, he had to cope somehow during that year when his boys weren't with him and he only had to rely on himself. Still snarky though...he's always snarky!**

 **Daisysakura, Yay, hoped you would like the caring scene in the last one. Even though it was icky (blood dripping, brain juice) I liked the visual of Seth being such a mum. I honestly cannot help myself sometimes! But yeah, the killer is dead...or one of them anyway….**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Hey, thank you! More unpicking the motive of the killer in this one but we're creeping closer and closer to finding out what's happening once and for all in this crazy tale!**

 **Meanwhile, at the crime scene...**

* * *

 **Endless Lies**

"Real nice place the guy had."

Roman raised an eyebrow and then cast around the threadbare and poorly decorated space, his long-time police eyes roving over the room briefly and then committing the outdated furniture and stale smell to his brain. They had found a length of red cord and sodium thiopental in the kitchen, but there was still a whole lot of apartment left to search and so the three of them who hadn't been kidnapped that evening had split up to begin the intricate grunt work.

Seth snorted wryly from his position on the carpet where he was rummaging through a box that had been shoved beneath the couch and which appeared to be packed full of women's health pamphlets plus middle aged lady oriented glossy magazines.

"Maybe it's no surprise he turned to killing if he had to keep looking at this wallpaper all his life."

"Brown and orange not your deal brother?"

"I'm getting a damn headache just looking at the stuff."

He had his trusty tablet lying open to one side of him which was running through lists and local precinct records and which he peered towards or tapped his fingers on occasionally as he searched the interweb for the background of their man whose identity was still pretty much shrouded in mystery but vague hints of which were starting to bleed through.

Dean emerged from the bathroom looking brighter and dabbing at his face with paper towels,

"Found anythin' yet?"

"His name was Glenn."

" _Glenn_?"

Dean reacted in pure horror and with an actual wholesale reeling back of his head like the younger of his brothers had sprouted eight eyeballs then taken a crap on the couch or else worse.

"Yep."

"I mean what kinda name is _that_ man?"

Dean sounded bummed out by it mostly because he was, since being held hostage by a known serial killer was a pretty fucking heroic party story to have to tell but was one that was instantly lessened in terms of its wow factor by the name of his kidnapper not being butch enough, though what precisely would have passed muster was a bit of a mystery.

Roman raised a brow,

"What would you prefer uce?"

He shrugged in reply,

"Somethin' that sounds kinda dangerous and _big_."

"Glenn doesn't cut it huh?"

"He sounds like a librarian."

Blowing out a breath their brother moved across the room then threw himself heavily onto the couch which made his copper bangs flap beneath the motion and also highlighted the bags beneath his eyes.

Seth gazed across at him seeing it instantly and voicing his concerns for them both,

"You alright?"

"Better for havin' washed the blood from my eyebrows but my shirt is fuckin' ruined."

Dean held the cuffs up and even in the orange half-light of the lampshade the bright red stains still shone crisp and sharp in a haphazard line like he had been blotting at paper but which was far worse than that.

"Nothing we can't replace but what we couldn't _ever_ replace is our lunatic middle brother."

Dean grinned wryly,

"Better luck next time though hey uce?"

Roman snorted back in a type of weary fondness at him and then pulled an overflowing kitchen drawer from its slats before marching it over and plopping it down heavily onto the lazily stretched out and perfectly positioned kneecaps.

"You okay to work?"

"Uh huh."

"You sure?"

"Try an' stop me."

Dean furthered his point by beginning to rifle through the drawer in a loose inspection of the general contents before he settled in to look through the papers one by one and on seeing it the bigger man reached a loving hand out and tousled it through the limp looking copper blonde curls.

Seth let out a bark,

"Here we fucking go boys."

He briskly pushed the magazine box aside and then seized up the tablet that was blinking in warning at him before rocking onto his knees and beginning to read.

"What have you got?"

"This apartment was owned by his mother up until her death three months ago – ,"

 _Fuck_.

Roman put words into what the three of them were thinking,

"So I guess that's our trigger for him staring back up."

"It says here that she suffered a stroke twenty years ago that left her pretty badly physically impaired and meant that she needed a full time carer."

Dean snorted shortly,

"No guesses who that was then."

Seth confirmed it,

"Her son."

"Fuckin' _bingo_."

Dean couldn't help but sound bitter when he spoke, because clearly the exhaustion of having been kidnapped and then splattered in brains was starting to tell and so frankly hearing things that they should have known earlier about their erstwhile murderous bastard wasn't much of a help since it was too damn late to do anything about it or try and find closure.

There was none.

Fucking _none_.

Biting back a sigh he kept on rooting through the letter pile as around him his teammates silently did the same thing in a methodical process of turning the place over on the hunt for clues or anything that might help explain. In his case though the drawer was filled with bills and coupons and therefore as far from incriminating as it was possible to go. He pushed it away from him then dropped his head into his scrubbed hands before using the heels to grind into his eyes.

Bliss.

He cleared his scratchy throat,

"But, I mean, we're gonna go out an' look for the fucker that helped him with the killings the first time though, right?"

Roman grunted,

"Uce – ,"

"Listen, that's what he told me an' why would he have any reason to lie?"

Seth raised a brow,

"Because the guy was a psychopath?"

"So then what was the point in trackin' me down? I mean that was a pretty fuckin' ballsy move on his part so why would he have risked it just to spin me some lie?"

Seth waved his hands,

"Why the hell did he do _any_ of it?"

Dean shook his head,

"It wasn't a lie."

"Well then maybe _he_ believed it but that doesn't mean it happened."

It was a point on which they all wildly disagreed and had done since the moment that Dean had spluttered out the sentence in his post-abduction haze about an hour before and which had taken them all in such measures of astonishment that they had yet to arrive at an official party line.

Mostly though they all thought the copper blonde was crazy while he remained unflinching –

Pissy too.

He was pissy as hell.

"Look whatever I fuckin' know what he told me and it wasn't some made up psychosis thing alright?"

Mark ambled back in and caught enough of the sentence to frown his big broad brow in at them across the room, in a look so deep that it knitted his brows together and almost swallowed his narrow eyes whole.

"What wasn't a psychosis thing?"

"What Cain told me."

"Cain?" Roman echoed asking the question they all suddenly had to know and the copper blonde blinked and then coughed in embarrassment before flapping a hand,

"That was what I called – ,"

"Glenn?"

"Yeah him."

Mark cocked his head,

"Is that because of the whole _quote_ thing?"

"Kinda, except he sorta told me where that was from, he had a half brother his mom used to make him go visit only the parents were really straight laced religious folks an' thought he was evil an' a bad influence on their own kid."

Roman nodded slowly,

"Cain and Abel in real life."

"Uh huh."

Mark coughed sharply like he had caught a sudden tickle and the noise burst through the little apartment like a bomb and shattered the relative hush that had preceded it as he began to shuffle restlessly.

Dean guessed it was probably hard –

Having spent _years_ slogging trying to put away a killer and the following however many decades rolled in hot guilt before suddenly being hauled back out of retirement and a week later being stood in the guy's fucking house. Honestly it was enough to make anyone antsy and so was likely the reason for his follow up snap,

"So what _else_ did that asshole try an' tell you?"

"Besides the shit that no one believes me on?"

"Dean – ," Roman rolled his brown eyes a little, but more out of weariness than censure of any sort considering that his brother had been kidnapped then held at gunpoint and which meant that he was therefore in a pretty forgiving mood.

Mark seemed more willing,

"Wanna go through that again son?"

"He said he worked with someone else the first time and that _that guy_ was the one that killed the victims. _Glenn_ just kinda pinned 'em down – ,"

Seth snorted,

"What a hero."

"But not the guy that did it which is the main fuckin' point because for all we know now that _other_ guy might still be out there."

Mark growled a little,

"Well he ain't killin' women now."

Roman nodded,

"Listen, I know what this guy told you but the fact is the last three kills we've looked into are Glenn's and _only_ his without help from anyone."

"I fuckin' know that."

"But you still think the first time he was part of a team?"

"Yes."

Dean folded his arms across his chest for added stubbornness and in reply Roman blew out a tired sounding breath and then turned towards their leather coat wearing veteran in an appeal for reason,

"You wanna help me out here?"

Mark was stood on the threshold of the bedroom where he had volunteered to look through the untidy piles of junk, in the hopes that their killer had maybe left a notebook or something that would help them to fill in the blanks.

He nodded at once,

"Happy to."

Dean grumbled,

"You guys weren't fuckin' here so – ,"

Mark held up a hand to cut him off, like the teacher of a class of loudly screaming teenagers that he was waiting for impatiently to shut the hell up and waving a handful of detention slips at them.

Dean wasn't a kid but he shut his mouth nonetheless.

"Listen son, I know that you've just been through the wringer here but I'm gonna be on the level with you now and tell you that nothin' I saw in my time on that first case pointed to another person bein' involved. Not one clue from the crime scenes and not a sightin' or scrap of paper an' I promise you I looked at every damn thing that came through the door. So _why_ he would tell you that shit I have no clue but I sure as hell do not for a second believe it's true."

Wow.

His voice rang out in a grumble through the apartment and seemed to beat a path clean into the seated man since his head dropped down like he was suddenly defeated.

Roman stepped forwards,

"Uce – ,"

"He said he had a son."

"Who did?"

"Glenn said his killin' partner became a father an' that's why he stopped doin' it because the need to hurt people had gone."

"Jesus,"

Seth blew out the word with such bewildered frustration that it seemed to ricochet right back at him from the walls and underlined the fact that Dean's hammering home of the message was going down as well as a tropical storm and _okay_ so maybe it was foolhardy to be arguing with the veteran who had ably lead the first case, but at the same the copper blonde couldn't deny his instinct.

It was fucking screaming at him –

 _Two killers, there were two_.

In response to the continuing stalemate however their big dog stepped in with a low and soothing tone which had long been the greatest of his many impressive assets and which managed to turn the conversation briefly from the point.

"Find anything halfway useful in the bedroom?"

Mark blinked momentarily and then shook himself back,

"'Fraid not 'cept some boxes of photos and school books and that kinda crap but none of them with anythin' that actually helps the case."

Seth snorted,

"That sounds about the size of our luck man."

Dean continued to sit huffily on the couch with his arms folded over his stretched and bloodied shirt front and his bangs hiding the full burnished extent of his frown. It wasn't like he didn't get why they were hesitant to believe him but at the same he still felt like they owed him a voice if only on the basis that he'd been kidnapped by a killer who in twenty five years had left no one else alive and had certainly never tried to talk to the police before.

He _knew_ the killer.

Well, not completely but _sort of_.

Briefly a cloud of exhaustion washed over him and he felt himself lurch forward before his awareness kicked back in, but with such violent force that he practically shot upright and which was so damn unsubtle that it immediately drew looks.

"Dean man – ,"

"M' good."

 _Fuck_.

He sounded pretty wasted and that was even to his own whistling ears, to the others we probably came across as ten times worse than that which their hugely worried gazes then seemed to confirm,

"Hey man you should go home, get some rest and then come back raring in the morning."

Dean shook his head,

"Seriously m' like _totally_ awake."

"Uh huh."

"M' fresh as a dandelion – wait – is that the sayin'?"

Based on their expressions Dean guessed probably not and so groaned as he realized that his bullshit game was over since he was totally rumbled.

Seth rolled his eyes,

"Go home already, come on man I'll drive you."

Mark stepped forward,

"Nah you stay here, I'll go, these late nights aren't so good for me these days besides, looks like the bastard has finally gone. Figure this will still all be here in the morning so hell, maybe I'll get a halfway proper night's sleep for once?"

Seth nodded,

"Sure thing man. Look after his ass though, he gets cranky when he's tired."

Dean blinked,

"You talkin' 'bout me?"

"Who else?"

"Fucker."

"You see what I'm referring to?"

Mark chuckled broadly but then swept up his hat which he slotted into place one handed like a cowboy before turning towards the threshold and buttoning his coat.

"Dean boy, you good to go?"

"Nuh – ,"

Roman pulled him upright and in the process replaced the building protest with a huff as the copper blonde made it onto his feet with a mutter that could have been anything but likely wasn't good.

Roman grinned anyway,

"Yeah I love you too uce but he's right you _do_ get cranky when you're tired."

Dean led himself be prodded towards the doorway with something bordering on uncharacteristic relief since he was so fucking tired that he could have pooled down on the carpet and happily curled up cat-like on the dirty brown shag and probably have managed a damn good sleep on it.

Luckily though Mark took hold of him first,

"Come on son."

He steered him back out into the yard space and then round into the alley for the third time that night and the copper blonde grunted in both amusement and resentment that made the veteran blink at him with a frown,

"You okay there?"

"Yeah m' jus' gettin' déjà vu or whatever 'cept this time there's not a big ass arm around my throat."

Mark snorted,

"Well, I'm not averse to a chokehold, so if you think it would help – ,"

He mimicked putting his forearm out and then began to wrap it around the smaller man until it drew a sleepy chuckle and then teasing batting hands which pushed him back a step and made him smile slightly,

"Funny man, real funny, you been takin' lessons from Seth?"

"Oh I don't need lessons from anyone on anythin'."

Dean snorted absently,

"Nope, probably not."

Between them they managed to make it along the alleyway without tripping over any potholes or random tossed out junk and then turned back onto the street and hit the sidewalk as Mark drew out his keys then gestured with them,

"I'm over here."

Dean was practically slapping each footstep as his legs presumably gave up the will to work and in the end there was a moment where both of them wondered if he would be able to clamber into the big truck at all, but which turned out to be false when he _tiggered_ into the passenger side and then leaned back with a groan and shut his weary eyes.

Mark climbed in beside him,

"You 'bout ready to be done here?"

"For tonight but m' still gonna get that other man – won't fuckin' stop 'til his ass is in a jail cell."

Mark nodded and then let out a tentative little hum which he timed with slotting the keys in the ignition and firing the big black vehicle into life. He turned a little and then beamed brightly,

"Mind if we stop off at my place first? Got somethin' real important I need to run by you, won't take long and then the rest of the night is yours."

* * *

 **Mark is taking Dean home to put him to bed, isn't that nice of him...**

 **See you in three!**


	13. Believe Me Now

**Hey all, are we ready to finally start building towards our big conclusion? More answers (maybe) I'm this chapter or at least some hints of them. Also, it's my birthday today so if you want to give me a present, then a nice review is all I ask! Enjoy!**

 **Skovko, Hey, top of the list today (your name looks good up here huh?!) And nope, you can't pull the wool over my eyes...but you can take off my glasses and have pretty much the same effect!**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Ooh, last ride huh? I see what you did there and I like it! Well, our killer still has a lot to lose, but he's one of those people who still think they can fix things. Never say die I guess...but who is it?!**

 **Minnie1015, Glad you're having a fun time guessing because that is about to end pretty soon since I figure it's only fair I give you some answers some time this year. I'm good like that you see!**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Thanks, hope you enjoy the boys trying to figure it out in this one!**

 **LHisawesome4ever, Luckily not drugged (why didn't I think of that?!) just really sleepy! Some answers coming up in this one so you can finally take a break on the guessing side of things...then step up the worry instead!**

 **Cheryl24, You mean lovely, dependable, trustworthy, decorated, never there when the bad stuff happens, slightly shifty Mark?! Whatever made you think like that! Lol. Time to find out a bit more about him…**

 **Mandy, Oh no! Well screw them, they don't know what they're missing, plus every rejection just takes you closer to the thing that is actually the perfect thing for you. Chin up!**

 **Cherry619, Dean being or superhero (or not...not telling!) is going to have to wait for the next chapter, because first we have the boys trying to slowly piece things together and not liking what they find. Enjoy!**

 **Derick Lindsey, Lucky break that your friend went to the movies! Aww, don't be too hard on Roman and Seth, Mark is a policing legend in their world. Only we know that Kane and Taker were family. They don't...yet!**

 **Kirrak, Well, he was a little too perfect maybe, but more answers coming your way in this one. Gonna have to wait a little bit longer to find out what's happening with Dean, but the big finale is winding our way!**

 **Jcott3, Well, I think the only swerving I have left in me is via the guys, because they certainly get swerved in this chapter, plus there's still the big climax to come and...oh yeah...Dean is still clueless about it all too!**

 **Daisysakura, Don't worry girl, I've got you covered with worried Shield brother love and I always will! Got a little bit of that here with Roman and Seth in detective mode. Let's hope they don't figure it out too late!**

 **Raze Olympus, Well, you're one step ahead of Seth and Roman, but they'll be pulling out their guns and following you any moment now...just as soon as they've piece it all together!**

 **HannonsPen, Yep, Mark being so chirpy and relaxed is probably not a great thing, but I'm still not revealing everything quite yet. Well, most of it but not all, need to let the killer have his moment first right?!**

 **Sodapop25, Thank you, coming to the dramatic business end of things now!**

 **Time for some detective work...**

* * *

 **Believe Me Now**

Seth had always felt a kinship with computers.

He could appreciate the precision with which they were made and the lines of binary and mathematics behind them and the fact there were no grey areas but instead pure black and white. When a system went down or crashed or stopped working, then there were rules and processes to figure it out and provided that a person was fluent in its language, then nothing was impossible.

Nothing.

"Fuck."

Except that.

In between searching through the drawers and cluttered cabinets he had been running a comprehensive internet background check and using the limits of his technical knowhow to find out everything he could about their dead killer.

Glenn.

In the immediate aftermath of the still unsolved shooting, they had checked every member of the tactical teams' guns and yet still had not been able to find out who had fired since nobody had owned up to it.

Not that it seemed important now.

Roman looked up from his position in the kitchen where he was sorting through a pile of letters and bills and then knitted his deep brows in a measure of confusion that bordered on brotherly worry,

"What have you got?"

Seth shook his head,

"Uh – ,"

He was looking at a police report that had been filed way back in the summer of eighty one and which implicated their then very teenaged serial strangler in some breaking and entering at an out of state school. Seth passed the tablet wholesale to his teammate and watched as the big man skim-read the text, then clearly came back having learnt very little since he merely blinked across the distance.

Seth rolled his eyes,

"Look."

He rocked up onto his knees and pointed at the line which to _him_ at least had clearly stood out and then waited a beat for his brother to catch up with it. Well, his older brother anyway since their middle one was gone and hopefully back at home tucked up beneath covers, preferably freshly showered and dead to the world.

Roman pushed the pointing finger up off the letters and then read the name of the school out loud,

"Paul Bearer High."

His brown eyes blinked a little and his teammate could see the cogs turning in his head and which probably would have landed on the conclusion eventually but which Seth cut in across before he could say the words,

"That was where Mark went to school as a kid, remember? I mean fucking _think_ about it – they were in the same place at the same time. Maybe even passed each other in the street as children and never even knew it."

Seth threw out a snort and then shook his head at how crazy the world was before turning back to the stack of greeting cards he was working his way through, most of which had clearly been stockpiled by the mother and the majority of which were signed _from your loving son_.

Roman continued to blink at the tablet screen,

"What was his ass doing so far out of town?"

"Figure he was staying with the brother he mentioned, Dean said he used to go visit him, right?"

"You got the details?"

Seth took back the tablet as it was offered out idly across the half-lit room and then shook his head with a snort of derision that bordered on bitter,

"Nothing on him man, our killer has a big blank line on his birth certificate where his father should be so I haven't been able to track them down. I mean, I'm guessing the mom knew who the old man was if she sent the kid to stay with him, or – you know – possibly not, maybe she just picked the best guy off the shortlist and made out like it _was_ him."

"No wonder our guy was messed up."

Remembering the bullet shot-through face of their killer brought his mind back to their absent copper blonde and the look in his eyes when the blood had spattered back at him and the horror in his tone when he had yelled loudly –

 _No_.

Seth blew a short breath out,

"Dean will be okay right?"

"He's uce."

"Yeah but the look on his face when – ,"

Roman cut him off,

"I know."

Evidently their big brown eyed powerhouse had clearly been thinking the same thing and probably seeing it at the back of his mind, along with the blood wash and the body falling backwards.

Roman cleared his throat roughly,

"You know Dean, I mean, he's a fighter and if he's not okay we'll fix it."

He said it with a nod and meant every word and syllable of the statement because the three of them had pulled each other back from the brink before and would keep on doing it for as long as it was needed since for the most part, their friendship was all the others had.

Brothers.

Seth blinked,

"You know what still bugs me? The whole Cain and Abel _good sibling_ thing. I mean, what the hell is that supposed to be about?"

Roman shrugged back at him and then rolled out his shoulders which were starting to stiffen from two hours of sorting stuff and being hunched up in the tiny little confines of the apartment and its general air of oppression and death.

"Maybe the good sibling grew up to be a doctor or a minister or something?"

"How about a cop?"

Roman snorted in response then threw his hands up, like stranger things had happened in the world, or possibly at the thought of their crazy profession in any shape or form being labelled as _good_.

Probably both.

"So what do we think about this whole double killer thing?" Seth asked glancing back to the printed police report and belatedly realizing there was an image attached to it that he assumed could only be a glaring mugshot of their man. He clicked on it and then waited for the image to download, which the system had to think about.

Roman raised his brows,

"Dean believes it."

"He believes a whole _lot_ of things, including that there are humanoid aliens walking the earth."

Nor was he kidding on that point either since they had once spent several long and listless hours on surveillance having to listen to his potted thesis on the thing and how a sentient race of foreign beings could _totally_ have adapted to blend in with the human race.

"He spent time with our killer, that has to count for something."

For a second Seth assumed they were still on the alien thing and so blinked a little in a moment of bewilderment before coming to the conclusion that they were re-focussing on Dean and not only that, but that the eldest of their trio had changed his stance a little as well,

"You changing your mind about the two person thing big guy, because you heard what Mark said, right? No evidence of anyone else?"

In front of him on the screen the police mugshot was still loading and revealing the photograph line by slow line, but had still only made it down as far as the forehead, revealing a short crop and pale looking hairline.

Roman nodded,

"I did, but you know what uce is like, so we might have to look into it just to cool his ass down."

"Probably man, but I don't think – ,"

Seth stopped audibly and then evidently froze up bodily as well as his basic functions froze like he'd been dipped in molasses and his tongue seized up and his mouth gaped open wide in response to the full mugshot that flickered onto the tablet in black and white glory.

He blinked at it horrified.

What in the hell?

Instead of the plump and lone opaque-eyed features he had expected to see staring back from the screen, he found himself faced with another sullen looking teenager, but one that he knew instantly or at least _thought_ he did.

"Shit, no, no, no."

"What? Hey, what's happening?"

Based on the fact that he was so completely dumbstruck, the younger man couldn't find the words to reply and so Roman was forced to lumber in across the shag-pile and peer over his shoulder.

Seth pointed haltingly,

"Is that – ,"

"Mark?"

Because that was who it was without any way around it, looking more youthful maybe but otherwise the same and with a dark eyed glower that looked smug and sort of challenging like he was daring the cop photographer to go ahead and make a move and which was generally carrying a whole lot more bravado than a kid of fifteen was entitled to have which seemed so far removed from the big man that worked with them, that for a moment it seemed like it couldn't be him.

Roman screwed his brows up,

"Who's arrest record is that?"

"Glenn Jacobs, our killer."

"You sure?"

"Uh huh."

But that didn't answer the pivotal question of how their identities had become so mixed up and instead flashed up a single and logical conclusion that then _wasn't_ logical because –

 _Because_.

Roman voiced it anyway,

"Did they know each other?"

"No way man," Seth answered hotly, "How the hell could they have done?"

Roman gestured towards the screen in response to him and then opened his mouth before shutting it again since there was certainly something screwy in Suplex but neither of them could wrap what that was around their brains.

He sucked in a breath,

"So you're saying Mark gets arrested as a teenager and instead of giving his own details just happens to make up the name and address of the person that twelve years later he gets assigned to track down?"

Seth remained resolute,

"That has to be it man."

Because the alternative to that didn't bear thinking about –

Not that they knew what the alternative _was_ exactly because the whole situation was frankly too weird and meant that either there had been a huge coincidence regarding some fault in the police records somewhere, or else that the two boys had at one point been friends.

Seth frowned,

"How could he not have recognized him?"

"Mark?"

He was muttering the words to himself and so therefore didn't outright reply to his brother but then nor did he ignore it as he painted a frown on and then continued following his thought process to its conclusion, whatever the hell that was.

"The man had a white eyeball for fuck sakes. If Mark had known him then he would've reacted on seeing the body shot up out there, right?"

Roman nodded at him,

"I mean sure, you would've _thought_ so – ,"

Seth looked up sharply,

"What does that mean?"

The fact that the big man missed a beat before answering made it pretty certain even before he said anything that whatever he was thinking wouldn't be a happy thing and judging from the unusually pinched expression he was wearing, it seemed like it was something not even _he_ wanted to hear and yet was fuelled by the same basic instincts and ability that made their three man team the very best at what they did, because none of them were afraid to look beyond the obvious –

For the most part anyway.

"Mark had some kind of a half-brother too, right?"

Seth felt his heart sort of stutter a little and then almost totally and utterly seize up and his gloved fists clenched on furious instinct or else a knee jerk reaction that he couldn't hold back, because he knew in a second what his teammate was fishing at and he straight up wasn't having it.

"They're not related Roman, _no_."

His friend carried on,

"I mean, we know that they both talked about religious families and half-siblings and now we got this mugshot – ,"

Seth cut him off,

"So what the fuck are you trying to say here? That the single most decorated officer in the department and the guy who spent years trying to track the strangler down, was actually related to the asshole the whole time or fucking _helped_ him do it?"

"I – ,"

"Mark's a _hero_ man, he's the god damn best of us."

In response to the passionate sounding little missive, Roman blew out a sudden humorous breath, before rubbing his hands across the base of his goatee in an absent sort of motion that showed how weary he was and which also implied that hearing it said outright highlighted what a wild fucking suggestion it was and he shook his hand towards his younger teammate bashfully,

"I'm sorry brother, you're right, that was totally insane."

"Damn straight," Seth snorted then returned to the birthday cards that were still piled up in a stack beside his legs but all blended into one mush of pink glitter and cartoon style kittens with bows in their hair.

Mark.

Seth shook his head in frustration,

No way could the man he had idolized for decades have been anyway involved in the strangler case, or at least not in any role other than his official one as the lead investigator seeing that justice was done. Besides, Mark himself had spoken of his contrition for never having brought the killer before the courts and in his head the younger man flashed through the highlights –

 _When I'm through you'll wish you'd never started up again_

 _Hearin' his voice, I just – I just snapped boys._

 _I know him remember?_

He shivered mildly at them all and especially at the last one since if taken more literally then maybe Roman wasn't so totally off base, which suddenly spun a whole beam of light on the anger that he had shown in the office.

Seth blinked,

"He broke the phone."

"What?"

"He broke the phone," he repeated deliberately, "He didn't just hang up, he threw it at the wall, like he wanted to make sure the guy couldn't call us – ,"

Roman nodded slowly,

"Uh huh."

Honestly Seth felt like a total fucking traitor for ever having even vaguely _thought_ of the words, far less for having said them like the veteran was guilty and yet the more he contemplated it, the more flags there were, or seemed to be since his brain would _not_ stop whirring and coughing stuff up,

"Mark talked about his son."

"What about him?"

"He told us that the kid was twenty five right?"

"Yeah?"

"Dean said that was why the murders stopped the first time, because this mysterious killing partner became a first time father then wanted to give it up."

"I mean, it fits yeah."

Seth snorted,

"Tell me about it, but I wish it fucking didn't man."

Roman blinked back and then hauled in a breath like he was maybe gearing himself up for something before lifting his brown eyes to beam across the room, with a look that seemed to be silently preparing him and made the younger of the two men groan. Evidently while Seth had been working on the _son thing_ , their big dog had been turning his mind to something else and like his first suggestion it wasn't going to be pretty or easy to hear.

"Did anybody check Mark's gun?"

"Mark's gun?"

"After the shooting."

"Why would we have needed to if – ,"

 _Oh_.

His stomach rolled over and repeated the action.

Fuck.

"You seriously think – ,"

But the sentence got stuck somewhere midway between his brain and his tongue, because if Mark had been somehow involved in the killings and had known Glenn Jacobs then he was the natural hitman choice and especially since the tactical team were well trained professionals and so if they said they hadn't shot then they likely hadn't shot.

Seth ran his hands through his hair,

"This is crazy, I mean it man, this is the wildest thing we've ever dreamed up."

Roman snorted back at him absently,

"The _good_ brother."

He was going for ironic but on saying the word _brother_ he sort of flinched a little bit instead then suddenly began to hunt for his cell phone in the pocket of his baggy black cargo style pants, which made Seth frown in mild confusion and also apprehension,

"You gonna ring Steph?"

"Dean."

"But he's at home right?"

Roman looked back up swiftly and then held his breath before exhaling it out and then hurriedly punching in the familiar digits that they both knew off the top of their heads and probably could have recited while blindfolded and stood on a tightrope over some sort of a cliff.

Roman grunted at the ringtones,

"Come on babe – ,"

It worried them both that he didn't pick up, but at the same time Seth couldn't help but splutter in total astonishment,

"Mark wouldn't hurt Dean. I mean, how would that help and what the hell would he get from it?"

Roman tapped his fingers against his thigh,

"Does he have his gun?"

Seth moved a hand towards his belt loops instinctively but before he even brushed it he knew the thing was there, still sitting tucked into the waistband of his denims because in the swirl of all the craziness he had forgotten to give it back and nor had their copper blonde teammate remembered it on account of having witnessed a man being shot to death.

By Mark –

Or not.

Roman grunted then hung the phone up, rooting in his pocket then setting up a jangling as he patted at the lining in the hunt for his keys. He looked up with brown eyes that defied his friend to argue.

"Come on,"

"Where are we going?"

"I need to check Dean's place and I know that might sound crazy and whatever but – ,"

Seth grabbed up his tablet and clambered to his feet,

"Let's go man, because if his ass _is_ there then he's gonna want to see this mugshot for sure and if he _isn't_ there then – ," he tailed off weakly, "But he'll totally be there, so that's not even a thing."

Between them they stepped back out into the bitterness and then turned through the pristine and tranquil little yard, that never in a million years showed any evidence of having belonged to serial killing ass or maybe that should have been one of a _pair_ of killers?

Seth shivered a breath in and then thought back to the shrine which had once proudly covered his teenaged bedroom and on which he had spent many long and devoted hours, carefully gluing newspaper pictures and articles up in homage to the one man on the entire police force that more than any other, he had wanted to be.

Detective Mark Calaway.

Possible murderer –

Not to mention the guy with one third of their team.

* * *

 **Back to Dean next chapter then and it's** _ **possible**_ **that he begins to figure out who the other killer is too...**


	14. From The End Of The World

**Back to Dean in this one then everybody and time for him to begin to figure that something might be wrong.**

 **Raze Olympus, Okay, but before you bust in and save our boy, can you let me build up the tension a bit more first? Then when I've got you all on the edge of your seats, I'll let you haul him to safety. Deal?!**

 **Sodapop25, Thanks, big drama in this chapter and then plenty more to follow, so I hope you enjoy it!**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Yay, glad you're still liking it, were building to the big dramatic finale now but there's a still a little way to go until we get there.**

 **Cheryl24, Actually in real life they've just arrested an former police officer for being a serial rapist and killer back in the day, so that really is a case of truth being stranger (or creepier...way creepier) than fiction!**

 **Minnie1015, Dean has a magnetic pull towards danger. Plus he's so cute when he's in trouble so maybe it's me that can't help myself?! Thanks for the birthday wishes, you were the first one. Different time zones rock!**

 **Mandy, I had no idea my birthday was so close to Seth's! May buddies! Aww, thanks for your compliments, I always try to capture the guys as best I can. Mum having her big op next Monday, so fingers crossed for us!**

 **Cherry619, Yeah, poor Seth. It never rains but it pours I guess. I think with anyone else he wouldn't have believed it but Dean maybe being in trouble made him change his mind pretty fast. Brothers forever!**

 **Daisysakura, Uh oh, more cliffhangers to come yet I'm afraid *ducks head in preparation for things being thrown in anger* but yeah, can't have a suspense story without some real nail biting moments huh?!**

 **Kirrak, Aww, thanks for the birthday wishes and in return I am giving into your wish and provided you some excitement from here on out as you will see when you get to the end of this chapter (I hope!)**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Yep, things are going to be pretty seismic for our killer in this one but I'm not going to give anything away about how he reacts because...well, you'll see! And yeah, sorry Seth for ruining your hero!**

 **Skovko, Yeah, you're too clever to be outsmarted by my plot twists darn you, lol! Still, just because you know who the killer is, doesn't mean there isn't still a bucket load of drama to come. Prepare yourself!**

 **Jcott3, Yep, finally we're getting to the point where we find out what our killer was thinking all those years ago, so prepare for drama. Nothing like a big climactic finale I always feel!**

 **HannonsPen, Haha, no, you're okay, no more plot twists because I think that would have made my brain explode too, but instead I have some action and some drama for you. Thanks for the birthday wishes!**

 **Rebel8954, Aww, thanks, I'm not as used to writing mysteries as I am other things so I'm glad I could keep you on your toes this long besides keeping you entertained of course. Back to the drama for this one!**

 **Derick Lindsay, Yep, Seth started with denial but not even he can deny the truth now, besides which, when one of his brothers is in trouble he will always do the right thing in the end. Drama for Dean!**

 **Here come Mark and Dean...**

* * *

 **From The End Of The World**

If the hills up high above the city by daylight had afforded a good view then that was trebled by the night that reduced the tall buildings of the sprawling metropolis into a series of flickering and blinking little lights, which glinted in the windows and showed up the highways but that also made the place look magical.

Almost.

"Here,"

Mark emerged from back out of the trailer with the brief sounding clatter of steel steps beneath boots and then held a beer in his general direction which the copper blonde took wearily from his outstretched hand.

"Thanks man."

Mark took a swig from his own bottle rapidly and then followed it up by smacking his lips in a measure of contentment that seemed out of place considering the chill wind whipping round their legs, not to mention their hands and their half frozen faces because _fuck_ was it ever ice cold up there and probably not helped by their previous stop off being the inside of a notorious serial killer's house.

None of those things made for warm cosy feelings –

Except for the veteran, who seemed perfectly at ease and probably revelling in the long awaited sensation of his erstwhile adversary having been permanently put to bed.

He snorted a little,

"Looks different by night huh? I always liked that. Did some of my best work in the dark."

Dean nodded back and raised his brows a little in the appearance of an answer but with none of the words since he still felt addled from his tangle with their strangler and weirded out by the fact that he was still sprinkled with dried blood.

He winced very lightly beneath a slowly growing headache,

"Listen, not that I don't appreciate the beer or whatever man, but d' ya mind me askin' why we're here?"

Because while he figured there had to be a reason for their late night boozing session, he couldn't work out what and wanted the comfort of his mattress so badly that it was making him grouchy.

Mark shrugged back,

"To talk, I mean you had one hell of a bad night son and trust me when shit like this hits the proverbial, the only solution is a beer with a pal."

Dean sighed,

Not bed?

Bed wasn't a solution?

How was sleep not the magical balm that cured all ills and random assorted kidnappings by psychopaths or otherwise?

Mark carried on,

"No shame in being knocked for six by what happened tonight."

"I'm not."

"Is that right? You got blood on your arm."

He issued the final line of the sentence as an afterthought while gesturing loosely with his half finished beer and in response the copper blonde pawed rapidly at his elbow at the spot he was pointing to.

Nothing there.

 _Damn_.

Mark snorted,

"Yeah I can see you're doin' _real_ good."

Dean rolled his eyes then took a sip of the booze and although the icy suds half froze up his throat canal, the taste and the knowledge of its alcoholic content steadied him just about enough to blow out a breath,

"What do you want from me? I got grabbed by an asshole."

"Who then had his brains blown out over your face. It's okay to admit you're jacked up about it or not thinkin' straight, because that's how you're meant to feel."

Dean took another sip of beer,

"You ever been here?"

Mark raised a brow,

"You mean the bein' grabbed thing, or seein' someone gettin' wasted in front of you?"

"Uh, both I guess man."

Dean doubted he had, because it seemed like a pretty fucking big stab in the darkness to be asking the best cop in the history of the department if he had ever let a killer get the jump on his ass and then been forced to watch while some asshole from the response team had put a bullet in the guy before they got their damn chance.

Mark thought briefly,

"I seen killin' up close before, but if I'm honest then it never seemed to bother me too much, I mean, I figure death is just a road we all gotta travel, so there ain't nothin' in it."

Dean blinked at him a bit and then couldn't stop the frown that folded over his features at the blasé indifference which the sentence contained. To a certain extent and on some level of understanding, he could see where the grizzled looking veteran was coming from, but at the same time there was a big ass difference between dying and being stabbed, shot or strangled to death.

Wasn't there?

If he closed his eyes he could still see the image of their bald-headed killer snapping back at the shot. His bulbous forehead rocking beneath the impact and then bobbing up again with a path carved right through and with eyes that were suddenly unfocused and unseeing.

Fuck.

Dean shuddered briefly and then fully downed his beer in a constant chugging motion that made his lungs cry for oxygen but which he saw through to the end because he needed the hit.

Mark smirked slightly,

"I'm gonna guess you want another?"

"Actually man, I kinda figure I should get back, I mean, it's like you said right? Get a good night behind me an' then feel better in the mornin' or some shit?"

Frankly the last thing his sore head wanted was to have to hang about on a hillside all night, holding hands and making a fucking prayer circle in spite of the fact that the gesture was nice –

Mark too.

He really wasn't such a bad dude after all, aside from the obsession with his gigantic half-built house, which he then turned towards with a nod of contrition that made the bandana bob,

"Sure thing man, I'll take you back."

"Thanks that's – ,"

"You still stuck on this whole two killer deal?"

Dean blinked as the question sailed out of thin air and then landed like a caterwauling cloud of braying seagulls or else something heavier like a boulder or a bomb. Because where in the blue hell had the question even come from when seconds before they had been shooting the breeze and talking about how fucked up he should have been from watching a serial killing strangler get shot?

He goldfished a little and then nodded,

"Uh, yeah man."

"Why? I told you we never found any proof."

He posed the query like he was talking about the weather and then finished it off with another sip of beer but all the while pointedly avoided eye contact as instead his narrowed orbs gazed out over the blackened view.

Dean huffed a sigh out.

He was getting pretty heated with his teammates trying to tell him how badly he was off base and it made his hands clench up just a little and turned his voice more gruff than it usually was,

"Come on man, again with this bullshit?"

"I'm just curious about it."

Dean waved his hands,

"I got a vibe from the guy or whatever. I mean – yeah, okay – I know he was a killer but it wasn't like he flat out denied bein' involved, I mean, we _know_ he was the guy behind the three we just had, so why not try blame somebody else for them all? Plus it explains why he switched up his method, because the _other_ guy was the one who did the stranglin' before."

Mark blinked,

"He said that huh?"

He hummed at the revelation and had his copper blonde colleague not been so totally addled and angry and tired then he might have caught the look, which seemed to flash through the narrowed eyes briefly but shone up like warning or a man on the edge. But then again even if he _had_ seen the danger then he probably would have assumed it was directed at their dead guy, because why the hell would it ever have turned his way when he hadn't done anything?

He nodded in return,

"M' tellin' you man, that's exactly what he said to me, an' – like – I know that you guys weren't there to see it an' stuff, but I was sittin' right in front of him the whole time an' I know he wasn't bullshittin' me."

"So you're not givin' up?"

"Nope."

"What if you're wrong?"

Dean shrugged back idly in a jerk he hoped came across more casual than it felt, not that the veteran was looking in his direction but because in terms of his confidence, the motion mildly helped.

"Well then in that case then I'd rather be wrong an' look stupid than worry 'bout bein' taken in an' lettin' some fuckin' psychopath escape."

Mark snorted at him in a frisson of amusement,

"That's pretty noble son."

"Well, I mean it's kinda my job, so – ,"

Dean tailed off because it didn't need finishing and for a second the two men lapsed into a stunted hush, with the only sounds around them the distant rumble of thunder as cars paced the highway lying way down below and the whistling of the wind as it tore through the grasses and the half built house standing silently in the dark.

Mark threw back the rest of his beer then smacked his lips again,

"Before I take you home, can I show you somethin' first?"

"Uh, sure."

"It's about the garage, remember me sayin' I'm havin' the concrete poured soon?"

Dean rolled his eyes because not only did he remember, but the fascinating titbit had been scorched onto his brain, along with the other eight million or so schedules and fashion styles and floorings that he had chosen to impart.

He tried to sound enthused,

"Uh huh, concrete, garage floor stuff."

Mark gestured towards the patch of ground beside the house, where strings and pegs marked out his precious structure and then he waved at it a little,

"I need your opinion son,"

"What about? Because – I mean – m' no good at _decoratin'_ or style an' shit, I mean look at me man."

In furthering his point he plucked at his shirt front which seemed even worse for being covered in blood, but hadn't been catwalk fashion before that since it showed a white wolf howling up at the moon, in an image that while cool, even _he_ knew was outdated since he had owned the damn thing for the last eleven years.

Mark laughed but turned him in the direction of the house anyway with a pat to his shoulder,

"I'd 'preciate it all the same."

Damn.

Dean rolled his eyes beneath the cover of the blackness and then followed the guiding arm as he grit his teeth hard and tried not to scream that he just wanted his fucking bed sheets and the chance to purify his bodily-fluid splattered face.

Instead he grunted,

"However I can help dude."

Mark led him over towards the neatly partitioned ground and then grunted a little as he patted at his pockets before turning,

"Hold on a second, I'll grab a flashlight so we can see."

"Yeah sure, wouldn't wanna miss this," Dean mumbled back as the veteran took off but he resigned himself to standing on the barren ground anyway and then absently began to wonder how his teammates were getting on.

In a perfect sort of world he would have been back there with them, in their killer's apartment turning over the piles of trash and on the hunt for anything and everything that would have helped to prove his unpopular _twin stranglers_ deal. But then again and as he knew too well to forget about, life rarely worked out the way most people hoped.

Having to bury his fiancée for example –

Being kidnapped by a serial killer.

It was an unpredictable world.

Rummaging around in the pocket of his denims, he tracked down his cell phone and pulled the thing back out, grimacing a little at the extent of the cracking that had laced the large screen and turned it into a mess of shards. Roman had returned it once they had all been back together, having wiped off the bulk of the grit and alley dirt and Seth had assured him that it still worked,

" _Barely though man_."

Dean hit the home button and then watched it light up.

Eleven missed calls.

"Huh?"

From Roman as well, every single one of the things and the repetition of them and the timings between them firing them through with a sense of urgency as well and making the copper blonde's stomach flip over because what in the world could the big dog need him for in such a rush?

"Shit."

Based on the fact that he had flung it across an alleyway, his phone had clearly decided to take revenge and had figured that the best and most brutal way of doing that was by appearing to work but not transferring any calls, or ringing or vibrating or giving any sort of warning and which was pretty the much the entire point of having a damn cell.

Dean shook it slightly like he was punishing it,

"Piece of crap thing – ,"

He wasn't even sure if he was able to ring back out since it took him a good four attempts to unlock the home screen and his contacts only came up after an angry thirteen taps.

Mark stepped back into the garage square behind him,

"Here we go then – ,"

"Be right with you man."

Beneath his feet there was a beam from the flashlight that the veteran had obviously managed to root out and it lit up the barren hillside landscape around them and chased the night time darkness towards the fringes of the bulb. Dean continued to tap at his cell phone, in the process of trying to phone his clearly frantic teammate back and so was therefore only listening very vaguely as behind him the veteran began speaking,

"I figure that concrete is pretty forgivin' – ,"

Dean nodded mildly,

"Yeah, uh huh."

"Once that stuff gets poured, it won't matter what's beneath it because whatever it is, it's gonna be buried for good and I mean, I plan on this house bein' here for at least fifty years or more, so by the time they find anythin' my ass will be long gone."

 _Come on_.

Pressing hard on the relevant button resulted in the list of his favorite numbers coming up and made Dean blow out a breath that carried in his answer, alongside his puzzlement,

"Not followin' you here man."

Mark chuckled loosely,

"I was talkin' about death, mine to be exact."

Dean shook his head,

"Nah c' mon, you got – like – years left to enjoy this place an' have barbecues an' shit an' enjoy the retirement years you talked about."

"Oh I know that son."

In a final attempt to call back his brother Dean pulled up the number then brought his finger down hard and in the process managed to upset his phone so much that the entire system died on him and elicited a curse,

" _Fuck_ ,"

"Somethin' wrong?"

"Do you have a phone I can borrow? Roman's called me 'bout a million times."

Mark quirked his head like a dog by the fireplace trying to figure out why it was getting so warm or feeling aggrieved because he'd been watching a sandwich that some human had come along and then had the gall to eat.

"That so huh? Why do you think that is?"

Dean shrugged idly,

"They found somethin' maybe? Or could be he's just – like – checkin' up on me or somethin' because trust me, the two of 'em are real good at doin' that."

Mark stared back at him,

"I guess that's brothers for you."

Dean snorted but let the words sit warm in his soul because he liked the fact that there were people to check up on him and who worried about him and rescued him from harm. Growing up he had never had much of a family or anyone that he would have considered a real friend and in the end, his whole life had been comprised of just three people who had penetrated his defences.

Four including Steph.

His fiancée had been lost to him and her death had nearly killed him, but Roman's non-stop ringing reminded him daily that people cared and drove out some of the cold of the wind factor and actually made him even quirk a dumbass smile of his own.

 _Brothers_.

Dean scratched at his neck line awkwardly,

"Yeah, I guess so, they keep me goin' y' know? You have one right? A brother I mean? Like a half-brother or somethin' isn't he?"

Mark blew out a breath,

"Had."

Dean screwed up his face up and then bit back a swear word for having typically managed to insensitively blunder in and in the precise sort of way that he still fucking _hated_ when people chose to ask him if he was married or engaged.

"Fuck, m' sorry man, I – ,"

"Don't worry about it," Mark shrugged back loosely, "It had been comin' a long time. Besides, he knew exactly what he was gettin' himself into and he went and did it anyway."

Drugs?

Dean nodded back, thankfully keeping his foot-in-mouth prone tendencies at bay long enough not to blurt the word out loud and then stood for a second feeling stupid and embarrassed before remembering the reason he had even thought to ask.

"So man – uh – about this phone call?"

Mark stepped aside and gestured with the flashlight which sent an arc of light out across the barren land, but swung in the direction of the tiny little camper where the veteran seemed to keep his booze and meat stashed.

"Right inside, you're welcome to use it."

"Thanks dude."

"Sure."

Dean stepped across the marked out ground and then faltered as he lifted his foot over the chalk lines and pegged out pieces of string that denoted the all-important garage.

He turned back,

"Uh, was there somethin' you wanted help with? Like, somethin' 'bout the floorin' or – ,"

Mark shook his head,

"No son, you go in and make that call to your brothers, what I was gonna ask you 'bout ain't nothin' that can't wait, besides, I figure you're probably fed up with this house now, I mean, I know I can sometimes get a little talky about the place."

Dean snorted like the suggestion was outrageous,

"What? No man, it's – _interestin'_."

"Uh huh."

Figuring that it was possibly best to cut his losses, Dean turned back towards the trailer again and began to cross past what would soon be the kitchen, with its island and polished concrete and granite countertops. In the darkness the big cement walls and strengthening pillars turned the half built home into a forest of sorts, except instead of trees the shadows were cast by masonry but they still threw out a creepy atmosphere of sorts and offered up tall trunks and gloomy spots to hide behind like the setting of some sort of modern fairy tale or ghost take.

Mark cleared his throat, his voice sounding weird in the bitterness,

"It was nice workin' with you boy, I really do mean that. Sorry it has to end like this, but I gotta protect myself you see son? I've come too far to give this all up now."

Dean looked up with a blink of bewilderment and as he did his eyes fell on a sheet of glass propped in front, which he assumed was going to be one of the bi-folds that the veteran detective had been lecturing about and which would have given him his long desired views across the city.

Instead it showed only Mark, stood behind him –

Holding a gun.

" _Fuck_."

Dean launched sideways at the exact same moment that the bullet exploded loudly towards his head and deafened the landscape with the sounds of its explosion before everything around them turned silent and dead.

* * *

 **Cliffhanger time! Come on, you know you love them really! Hope to see you back in three days time!**


	15. Fire On High

**Okay, so time to cut back a bit in this one (stringing out the torture) but then we move into the final fling of this. In other news, I'm going to need everyone to cross their fingers for me on Monday, because my mum is having a huge operation so I need to have those positive vibes!**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Thank you, have some more brotherly panicking for you in this one, but we're building to our big finale, coming your way very soon!**

 **LHisawesome4ever, Haha, well I have both Mox and the Shield updates for you, because I happen to be wonderful like that sometimes! Yeah, pretty sure Dean has a permanent spot on a therapist's couch somewhere, but hey, he's tough, he'll be fine...right?!**

 **Minnie1015, Hmmm, the prize for being the first birthday wisher? How about my neverending gratitude...is...is that enough? Plus, I know, silly Dean being all confused and sleepy but then the poor baby has had a hard day and he's flagging, but it's not like there's a murderer after him. Oh…**

 **Cheryl24, Classic ingredient in cement you know, sand, water, scruffy haired but lovable wrestler. I mean, it's how the best houses are built! But yeah, our boy certainly gets himself into some scrapes as his poor brothers know only too well and which is no exception here.**

 **Cherry619, Yep, Dean should know to trust his first instincts by now but he lets himself gets talked into these things. Gonna be some good stuff (I hope) between Dean and Mark next chapter as we get to our big finale, but first we're back with the boys and their panicking!**

 **Raze Olympus, Okay, I call for a reprieve until the next chapter when I hope you're going to skip away perfectly happily...or, well, mostly happy, I can't promise too much, but at least let me have one more chance after this one. Deal?**

 **Mandy, I like me and Seth being birthday buddies. Perhaps the two of us should throw a joint party next year. He would totally be up for that right? Funnily enough I just wrote a oneshot where it's his birthday, little knowing that it would make it my birthday too (give or take a day!)**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Haha, no I wasn't smart enough to think of a father and son, too many family members flying around for my poor little brain! Luckily, Dean isn't drugged just exhausted from being kidnapped once already *pets his hair* poor little baby. Still, the fun isn't over yet!**

 **Kirrak, Well, I hope you like this chapter but you'll have to wait for the next one before you get your wish, because we still need to catch up with the boys and Steph gets to make an appearance in this one too, because I figure it's only right that someone should tell what's going on!**

 **Derick Lindsey, Yep, it's a done deal now that Mark is our other man, but I'll let him tell you all about that next chapter, because we've still got some Roman and Seth stuff first before we finally move into the business end. Big finale coming soon!**

 **Skovko, Yep, I think we all know that showdown is coming, but first we've got some more of the boys trying to find him and also having to break the news to a not so happy boss lady who happens to love Mark as much as they do...or did anyway! Fun time ahead!**

 **Daisysakura, But how boring would this be without leaving you hanging? Okay, maybe not totally boring but a little bit boring and I can't have that! As for Dean, yep, you'll want to tune in next chapter for a little bit of what you like best. But for now here are his boys worrying about him...**

 **Jcott3, Yeah, I strung it out for long enough, but I can't hide Mark being involved any longer. He's the one who dunnit! More of that will come out next chapter when we move into the super dramatic stuff but first Roman and Seth need a few more clues. Go boys!**

 **Guest, Haha, glad you like the chaos as much as I do! Plenty of that over the next two chapters but especially next chapter when the big stuff goes down. Hope you enjoy the rest of the ride to the end of this, because we're getting pretty close to the final now!**

 **Roman and Seth time...**

* * *

 **Fire On High**

Back when Seth and Roman had first been partnered up with him, Dean had lived in a pretty rough looking place, the hallways of which had been filled with shaking junkies and other types of inhabitant who hadn't liked living near a cop. The building itself had been nice enough for the most part, with period features and fireplaces and brick walls, but each apartment in the place had been tiny, with a kitchen area, bathroom and flip down bed.

Dean however had seemed happy enough there, which was hardly surprising given where he'd been brought up and if the stories about which were anything to go by, had made his first solo place seem like a palace of sorts.

It hadn't been though, not even remotely –

But then his fiancée had swept into his life and hauled him kicking and screaming into a relationship that had changed him for the better in every way that he could count and which had eventually included the purchase of an apartment, but a real one with bedrooms and a kitchen and lounge.

It was where Dean had stayed after _she_ had been lost to him and where they knew he felt happy and like her presence was still around and it was also a place that they both knew every inch of, to the point where they could probably have lived there themselves.

Seth was the first one through the doors and up the staircase, although his frown faced older brother wasn't too far behind and together they trod the familiar path upwards before peeling off into the hallway where their teammate's apartment was.

Seth banged on the door with his curled up fists loudly,

"Dean? It's us, come on man open up."

He tried the handle and then pressed his ear against the woodwork, like if their brother _was_ inside then he would be able to hear his tread, or probably more likely be able to hear him grumbling, although based on his expression he picked up on neither of those things.

Roman huffed a breath out,

"He could be in bed I guess?"

Seth thumped his gloved fists more forcefully,

" _Dean_."

In pulling up kerbside out in front of the building and with their heads still swirling, they had hoped to see Mark's truck, which would have assured them that they had gone totally loco and that the veteran was not a killer but merely putting their friend to bed.

Instead he wasn't there and neither was their brother.

Seth ran stressed fingers through his hair then swore,

"Fuck."

From behind him Roman blew a terse sounding sigh out and then brushed past the smaller man to the end of the hall and an ornamental pot of bright plastic flowers that was perched on the windowsill but half hidden by the drapes. He lifted it up and extracted a key from under it before marching back frowning and inserting it in the lock.

Dean's former fiancée had made the spare years back after one notable time when the copper blonde had been locked out and had fallen asleep slumped up against the doorway when she had been at the hospital working a night shift.

He had copped some healthy ribbing for _that_ one –

But thank god he had done it or else they wouldn't have had the spare, or been told explicitly by his fiancée the precise location where she had chosen to conceal the thing.

Seth bounced on the tips of his toes,

"Hurry up man."

Roman grunted back but then twisted the lock and was rewarded by the sound of the mechanism clicking. He pushed the door open and stepped in across the mat,

"Uce?"

Beyond them the apartment lay in total blackness and so he reached across and flipped on the light, revealing the familiar hallway and semi-neat belongings but not the scruffy haired features they had been hoping to find.

"Damn it man," Seth groused, shunting in past him and then darting through the lounge to where the master bedroom was.

Roman followed a little more sedately, holding onto the hope that their brother was still in bed and blissfully dreaming his way through their intrusion in the depths of the sleep he so richly deserved. He was still having a hard time wrapping his head around it, in particular their growing suspicion of Mark –

Best damn officer in the entire department and a man who his father had worked with at times, not to mention a man that _he_ had known since childhood, albeit in a vague and fleeting sort of sense. The thought that he was involved in the killings however or _leading_ them perhaps was wild to say the least and yet it fitted in better than anything else that they had thought about and answered so many questions while raising a whole lot more.

The change in method though.

That was the big one.

Because they had known from the moment the case had been thrown at them that there had to have been a reason for their killer changing his mode and switching from the stranglings which had made him so infamous, to the sedation technique that had required a lot less gore.

Dean had told them that the other killer had done the murdering and their dead man had only helped by pinning the victims down, which therefore meant that their shadowy second figure was far more lethal and if it _was_ Mark, then it meant that he possibly had Dean.

Seth popped back through the lounge,

"He's not there man, nothing's been touched, looks like he hasn't been home."

 _Damn_.

Roman looked up,

"So where would he take him?"

He chose not to lead the question with _why_ since it seemed both obvious but also too horrific because there was surely no way that Mark had driven him somewhere nice, or was treating him to bowling or a burger-and-fries dinner to shake some of the tension of the last few hours away.

Right?

Seth stared back at him and his brown eyes looked worried, but they were also sort of pumped up too, in the constant turning motion their youngest man carried with him and which was partly why they referred to his twitchy ass as _The Architect_.

He snapped his fingers,

"My tablet's in the car man, I'll search the traffic cameras."

"Wait, you can do that?"

Seth was already cutting a path across the living room and waving his hands in the air as he spoke, like he was trying to chase a cloud of locusts away from him or else waft a bit more oxygen into his rapidly working head.

"I figured that I should probably learn my way around them after the god damn Kevin Owens thing. Seemed like it might be something we could use, you know?"

Roman raised a brow.

 _The Kevin Owens thing_.

Probably better known as the other time in the past year that Dean had been put into somebody's car then spirited off and which on that occasion had ended up in their brother being buried alive and _their_ poor sorry asses almost turning up too late to save him.

He frowned in reply,

"Does Steph know you can do that?"

Seth shrugged,

"Not unless you tell her I can."

Roman held his hands up and then smiled back wryly as they trampled across the carpet back through to the hall and then reluctantly slammed the front door shut behind them as they turned for the staircase in a half-stalk, half-run,

"She won't hear it from me uce."

Seth waved a hand,

"It isn't perfect, but if I put in the plate numbers I can search some of the feeds, see if any cameras picked up which way he was going. But the rest of the searching will have to be from us."

Roman nodded,

"Can do man, can do."

They clattered down the stairs and then pushed back out into the night, making the walk to where Roman had parked his truck up in what probably amounted to four almighty strides before throwing themselves back into the vehicle where Seth snatched up his tablet.

His phone rang.

"Crap."

"Is that Dean?"

"Nope," Seth shook his head and snorted a little, "Worse than that man."

He held it out across the space and the bigger man squinted his brown eyes towards it and let them lock in on the brightly lit screen and in particular the name that was staring back at him and making the cell shake with a constant angry buzz.

He groaned in response to the caller I.D.

How could the sound of her _dialling tones_ be angry?

"Steph."

"Should I answer it?"

Seth looked a little stuck, like he knew that their boss should have probably been kept updated on their sudden suspicions towards her favorite former cop, but at the same time knowing that trying to tell her would go down about as well as giving a stray cat a bath.

Roman sucked a breath in,

"Pass it over, I'll take it, you just focus on checking out that camera shit."

Seth tossed it over and then snorted,

"Good luck man."

Roman hit the green call button and then held it up.

"Steph – ,"

He never even got the chance to finish the greeting, since their ballsy boss instantly came firing right back, in tones that were so clipped that they actually bored through him like she had sent a small platoon of knife wielding midgets to wedge pickaxes into his ear drums and right behind his eyes.

Ow.

" _Reigns, where the hell have you boys run off to? Because I'm standing in the apartment of a recently deceased killer and the one thing I can't see is a single member of my top team_."

He grumbled through clenched teeth at her,

"We're working on something."

" _Well whatever it is, I hope it's something good, because you left a crime scene unsecured and instead took off to_ – ,"

"Mark has Dean."

He accompanied the by-no-means softly offered explanation by hammering his fist down onto the dash and although he wasn't sure if the noise of it carried, something about his delivery certainly had.

She paused for a second,

" _Okay, so why is that a problem_?"

In the scheme of things some context would have probably helped, but at the same time it was impossible to offer out coherently because how in the world would he ever pull it off or get even halfway through sentence without their chieftain shutting him down with a bark or a yell? Besides which how the hell did he make it sound believable that the city's beloved hero was a murderous psychopath?

Potentially at least.

Seth looked up from where he was stabbing at the tablet and typing in codes that neither of his brothers understood and then winced in what was clearly a measure of sympathy but also cluelessness since he had no idea of how to help.

Roman pinched his eyes.

There went nothing.

"We think Mark might be involved in it somewhere along the line."

" _Involved in what_?"

"The case."

Stephanie snorted and the big man could almost hear her rolling her eyes, in a motion that came loud and clear across the phone call, along with the world-weary sounding sigh she heaved out,

" _I know that Reigns, I assigned him remember_?"

Evidently she thought he was going senile or mad and the sheer frustration of both that _and_ their situation made the taskforce's powerhouse abandon tactfulness real fast.

"We think his ass is the other damn killer."

Seth snorted wryly from beside him,

"Real nice way to ease her into it man."

Roman ignored him but at the same time held his breath a bit, because the silence on the other end of the line was pretty deafening and he wasn't entirely sure what it meant, or if their boss hadn't been knocked straight over backwards or else was simply stood gaping not believing a word of it.

" _What_?" she spluttered out eventually, " _What other killer_?"

Damn.

Context, right.

From the corner of his eye he could see Seth tapping and in turn pulling up and then dismissing images from the screen, casting his eyes across multiple snapshots of vehicles and scanning keenly through the camera angles for anything that might help.

Roman tried to fill in the gaps for her,

"Dean found out that our shot up killer had some help the first time around, said that another guy was the one who did the strangling and he was just there to hold the victims down."

Steph still sounded baffled,

" _You don't think he was lying_?"

"Dean didn't, no."

It was the only thing that seemed to count and clearly held sway with their boss lady also since she took it on board instead of dismissing it out of hand. Then again she had always had a thing for their brother, like a familial bond that ran deep enough to seem like love, or at least as close as their commissioner came to it since there had always been tell-tale signs that she'd been born in a lab, or possibly on another planet somewhere which gave credence to Dean's notion of extra-terrestrial race.

" _So how is Mark involved_?"

Given that their boss was by no means an idiot, Roman figured that she had already guessed and based on the level of hesitance in her question was braced for the answer,

"We think he was the guy."

" _No_."

"The killer talked having about a half-brother and Mark told us he has a half-brother too – ,"

" _Reigns stop right now_."

"Glenn Jacobs was arrested back when he was a teenager for breaking into the school Mark attended, Paul Bearer High, 'cept the mugshot isn't him, because it's actually of Calaway, which means they knew each other."

Steph snarled at him,

" _I'm not hearing this_."

"Cain and Abel, the quote the killer uses, is about two brothers who broke apart, Glenn was about to up and tell Dean everything and then somebody shot him – ,"

" _You're not suggesting_ – ,"

"It was Mark."

For some strange reason the more he explained the logic, the more Roman started to believe in it himself, because there simply was no other freaking way around it and nothing they had come across that made such perfect sense. Not even the theory of the single lone killer worked out so neatly for him like it had done before and even though their boss clearly hated it bitterly, her shell shocked silence was thoughtful as well.

Eventually she sucked a breath in,

" _What's Ambrose got to do with this_?"

"He kept going on about hunting this other guy down, Mark said he was tired and offered to take him home again, only he's not at his apartment and he's not answering his phone."

Stephanie let out a sound in response to him.

Not a particularly feminine one either, but an honest to goodness roared out yelp and one that she had to move her head away from the phone for to avoid half deafening him.

She was as pissed as he'd ever known.

" _What the hell is wrong with that lunatic that he keeps getting himself into these kind of scrapes? Does he not have any concept of taking a god damn backseat_?"

Roman frowned in defensiveness,

"Hey."

" _Reigns_ – ,"

"It was Mark,"

He felt it worth saying a second time to underline the fact that it was what they both believed and the intensity of his delivery drew a sigh from their overlord that seemed both devastated and hugely frustrated all at once.

Roman could totally understand where she was coming from, since she too had known the man right from back when she was a kid, only it hadn't been a passing acquaintance on her part, her family had known him and worked side by side with him a lot. Mayor Vince McMahon may not have been in power when the original killings had taken place, but he _had_ been on the city staff and important and so therefore had taken his cue from the lead detective and asked no questions.

None of them had.

Because who in the hell was supposed to be trusted if not the most successful officer on the beat and how in the world would anyone have figured that the man killing the women had been working for the police?

Stephanie sighed,

" _Are you one hundred percent on this_?"

Roman nodded in response,

"Pretty sure."

Beside him Seth was still stabbing at freeze frame images, but suddenly he barked out an excited little noise and then spun in his seat to offer out the tablet which he was gesturing to keenly with a frantic finger point. Roman looked across at the slightly blurred picture, but sure enough it showed up Mark's big silver truck as it seemingly turned right at a familiar intersection not far from where Dean lived –

Except Dean's place was to the left.

Instead the truck seemed to be heading in the direction of the highway that would lead the pair right out of town and in response, the bigger man looked towards his teammate with a frown of bewilderment that was mixed in with alarm.

He covered the speaker,

"Where were they going?"

Seth shrugged,

"I don't know man."

" _Reigns_?" Stephanie's voice rang out and in sharp tones that implied she knew something was happening and by no means appreciated being kept from the loop.

Roman sighed,

"We've got them on camera heading out of town about an hour or so back, so either Mark took a pretty wrong turn or something, or else he's taking Dean – ,"

Seth flung an arm out,

"Fuck."

It caught his teammate in a smack on the shoulder which made the big man turn back with a frown, baffled as to why his younger brother was attacking him in a vicious backhander that had the added sting of the leather gloves.

"What are you doing man?"

"Mark's house up on the hillside."

His eyes were wide with the sudden realization and a look like he couldn't believe for the life of him why he hadn't somehow thought of that before and on hearing it Roman had pretty much the same reaction, because it seemed so god damn obvious that it was where Mark would go. To the place he felt the comfortable and totally assured around and to the place that they were going to be laying a floor of concrete down, meaning that anything or anyone who went beneath it would stay that way too.

Stephanie spoke up again,

" _What house_?"

Roman and the others had frequently wondered if their boss had been genetically crossed with a sparrowhawk at some point, or perhaps some form of rodent stalking predator that could hear their prey beneath ten feet of snow. Dean would probably have had more facts on that one and so the older man silently resolved to ask when they got his documentary watching ass back safely which they definitely and absolutely god damn would.

Seth sighed in response and then leaned in towards the cell phone,

"The house he's building up in the hills for his wife."

" _What wife_?"

"His wife."

Seth rolled his eyes a little and then threw a look upwards like their boss was going mad, although it faded pretty rapidly as her sharp tones snipped back at him, clearly not appreciating being treated like a fool.

" _She left him about a year back, I mean, it's not common knowledge, but they're certainly not together anymore. I bumped into her in a restaurant about three months ago now and she told me then that she was filing for divorce, so why in the world would he be building a house for her_?"

Seth and Roman exchanged a worried look.

If Mark was both a serial killer and delusional then those two things made for a very bad mix and one that their brother was utterly caught up in.

Roman fired up the engine,

"Hang on in there uce."

* * *

 **Good news folks, in the next chapter all questions will be answered and we find out what happened to Dean and whether he is going to end up underneath the garage or not… *evil laughter* Mwahaha...**


	16. Showdown

**Here we are then everybody, that chapter you've all been waiting for where everything comes together at last. Also, on a happy side note, my mum made it through surgery and we are hopeful that the surgeon got everything out, so now just rest and recuperation so thank you everyone for your well wishes *hugs***

 **Cheryl24, I think that Stephanie definitely feels bad, not that she would ever say it of course because that's not her style, but she loves her boys really so she'll be somewhere rallying the troops and screeching at people. It's how she shows she cares, lol!**

 **Skovko, Yeah, I feel a little bit sorry for Steph here, I mean, it's not like the McMahons are very skilled at admitting their mistakes, or even that they are physically capable of making any. She'll believe them in the end though, because they're her best boys!**

 **Mandy, Sorry to hear about your Gran, keeping you all in my thoughts and thank you for your well wishes for my mum. Glad I could help. I love writing Seth all spiky but loving, it's so much fun. New Shield one shots coming up after my next story (got some more info on that next chapter too!)**

 **Guest, Hi, yep, things are getting really tense now but this is our big dramatic finale type chapter, so hopefully this will be the most hectic and suspenseful of them all *crosses fingers***

 **SkittlezLvr79, Haha, I'm glad you like Seth figuring out traffic cameras! I thought that we would probably have been working on something in the background! Yep, Mark thinks that if he builds his wife a lovely new house that she'll come running back. Pity that won't work really isn't it?!**

 **Derick Lindsey, Yeah, thought I would throw some final pieces of information at you last chapter before we get into the business end of things here (I promise, this is business end too!) Luckily Mark hasn't killed his wife, he's wooing her with the house. Still, if she refuses he probably would!**

 **Minnie1015, Haha, imagine if one time Seth and Roman figured it was too much hard work to keep rescuing Dean and went and had a coffee instead?! No, I'm kidding, never going to happen because luckily they love Dean even more than we do!**

 **Cherry619, Exactly, Mark is a man with nowhere to go so if he has to kill Dean to keep his wife and his house then so be it. I mean, let's face it, he has previous on the killing front after all. Glad it gave you chills (because I'm mean so that makes me smile). Ready for the final showdown?!**

 **Daisysakura, Well, you know I love slightly bruised Dean as much as you do, so this chapter is totally going to be for you and the other good news is that you finally get a resolution to the horrible cliffhanger I left you on...or do you?! *Evil laughter* Not telling!**

 **Rebel8954, Haha, well done on guessing that Mark was involved, but unfortunately you don't get full points because you didn't guess how! No, I'm kidding. You can have all the points! Well, I think now that Seth has mastered traffic cameras then GPS is probably the next step!**

 **Jcott3, Yep, there has to be a big dramatic chase towards the end of a dramatic story am I right?! But now the question is will they get there in time or not? I mean surely I wouldn't be that mean...hmmm? Gonna have to read it to find out!**

 **Kirrak, Thank you so much for your well wishes. Glad you think things are getting better and better. Don't worry, Roman and Seth are on the case but they're still a little way off yet so it looks like our boy will have to figure things out on his own for a while!**

 **Questions will be answered...**

* * *

 **Showdown**

Dean hit the concrete of the half-completed kitchen and then instinctively kept rolling his body into the gloom, crashing up against one of the thick supporting columns and then hunkering down behind it as the gunshot rang on.

 _Bang_.

What the fuck?

His head was spinning and not helped by the echoing of the blast in his ears or possibly the entire bottle of beer he had thrown back and which was making him see things –

Mark Calaway shooting at him being one.

Except for the fact that it _wasn't_ some booze dream, because he had actually felt the bullet whistle past his hair and had piled shoulder first onto the unforgiving concrete with such a stab of pain that there was no way he could be asleep.

Behind him outside the structure a gruff voice bit out loudly and underlined that further with an angry cuss,

"Damn."

Dean could feel his heartbeat pounding a mile a minute, which wasn't much helped by the confusion he felt and the fact that the man who had been working with him so closely had seemingly just attempted to blow off his head.

What the _fuck_?

It was worth saying a second time and probably also a third and a fourth, only his internal string of bafflement was swiftly cut off again by the sound of a hammer click and then an eerie sounding tone, that bounced back in off the cold concrete structure and magnified the words until they struck him like fists and which filled him with a measure of horror that chilled him to the bone far worse than the biting wind.

"Son, I'm gonna need you to step out here for me."

Dean snorted back at him,

"Fuck you man."

It came out a whole hell of a lot raspier than he'd been hoping for but considering that he'd been blindsided not to mention fucking _shot_ at he figured he had reason for sounding so lost.

Because _god_ was he ever fucking lost.

What was happening?

Luckily Mark then chose to fill the many blanks in, albeit in a half-sentence that took a while to compute,

"You should have let it go son, should have accepted what I told you."

Dean hissed slightly at a twinge from his palms, which he had braced against the floor as he had tumbled towards it and which the concrete had then scraped the top layer of skin off. He reached for his cell phone and then cursed and threw his head back at finding his pocket empty.

Piece of shit must have fallen out.

Plus his trust firearm was still fucking missing and potentially still lying back in the alley for all he knew, so therefore _not_ there to help him get s hand on things which was the main bone of contention because what in the hell was he meant to do now?

He grumbled back cluelessly,

"What the fuck are you talkin' about?"

He looked around desperately hoping to see the flash of light, because while being hunkered down low beneath the pillar meant that he couldn't get himself shot at, it also meant he had lost eyes on the veteran-turned-loon and so therefore could only follow him from the sound of his gruff tones.

"Don't you boy?"

 _Shit_.

He sounded a lot closer than last time, like maybe he was stepping into the shadowed half-built house and which instantly made the little column of cover seem pretty unsubstantial to say the very least.

Dean needed to find himself a way better hiding spot.

Plus figure out what the hell was going on.

Rocking himself forward from a squat onto his kneecaps he crawled through the shadows towards the opposite wall, which thanks to his earlier very boring orientation, he knew would eventually be the fireplace flue and therefore the grandiose and most pivotal feature of the big ass and overly ostentatious looking house. He sank down against it on legs that were trembling with the hot flood of adrenaline mixed in with raw shock and then tried to get eyes on the gun and the veteran, both of whom he was keen to avoid.

Mark chuckled mildly,

"You haven't figured it out yet? Shame. Here I was thinkin' you were Steph's best boys and with you bein' so clever too, knowin' there were two killers. I gotta say though, you're disappointin' me son."

Dean blinked back.

He was utterly clueless but working on the assumption that the guy had gone mad, possibly after twenty five years of hunting down a killer who had then been shot dead before he could get a word out or explain or offer up any sort of apology. But at the same time there was something _not_ crazy in his voice, which instead carried the notes of a man in full control of things, up to and including his broader mental health.

Except for the fact that the guy fucking _couldn't_ be –

He had taken a shot at him, so therefore _had_ to be insane.

Dean wet his lips,

"Look whatever this is man, we can talk it through alright? Just put the gun down."

"No son, see, I ain't too keen on doin' that."

"Why not?"

"Because how else am I gonna kill you?"

Fuck.

Mark clearly hadn't so much taken the train to crazy town as got off and followed the entire tourist trail around and then stopped off to buy souvenirs and a bunch of fucking postcards because what other reason could there be for the schism or the way he sounded so unflinchingly calm?

 _Figured it out_.

What was he meant to have figured?

He heard the other man blow a heavy sigh out which was followed by the crunch of concrete beneath boot soles as he slowly began to creep through the structure, sweeping the flashlight side to side as he went. Dean hauled his feet in but managed to stay hidden as the veteran worked on the other half of the house, talking as he went like he was learning some monologue and wanted to practise before he got up on stage.

"You remember I told you I had a half-brother?"

Dean scooted himself further away from the light,

"Yeah?"

"Now remember how _Glenn_ told you he had a half-brother and how the parents were all religious, the exact same way I described mine?" Mark was grinning as he spoke, Dean could hear it and it made the words more freaky, "Kinda a coincidence don't you think?"

"What are you talkin' about man?"

"I'm Abel."

He might as well have sent up the words in fireworks since they seemed to scream up into the air like a whizzbang and then explode in a hail of colors and sparks.

Dean felt the bottom drop out of his stomach.

Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.

Mark Calaway was the other man?

How could he –

Why would he –

It simply wasn't possible.

Except the more he thought about it the more he it fucking _was_ and in particular the image of him hauling away the cell phone and then launching it through the air came fully to mind, as did what Glenn had been trying to tell him that first time and then again a second time earlier that night. He had been talking about his brother. But more than just talking. He had been obsessively mentioning and blaming the guy. His so called _good brother_ who had taught him about killing and yet the guy the police had never found an inkling of.

Unless of course they _had_.

Dean coughed,

"You buried the evidence."

His voice sounded crackly as it echoed throughout the space and he saw the flashlight bounce around in response, as the veteran tried to work out where his hiding place was, in a change of direction that brought his big feet in closer and made the tension increase tenfold. Dean held his breath and slid away along the wall from them before pivoting the corner as the former detective stepped around.

Mark cursed,

"Damn,"

"Why the fuck did you do it man?" Dean called through the darkness as he crept towards the stairs. In the black of the night they looked taller than they had done, but they still provided a good hiding spot and therefore a point from which the ambush the veteran.

He had to take the gun out of play.

Moving through the shadows on the balls of his tiptoes so as not to crunch the fragments of loosened concrete too much, he crept up the staircase and into the darkness of the top floor from where he could bag himself a much better view and where he figured the veteran would be hard pressed to follow since moving to the first floor would have been a vulnerable move. Nobody wanted to be ambushed on a staircase and that usually included insane serial killers too.

Dean's head spun.

Roman and Seth would be on their way right?

He figured that was what the frantic calls had been about and so all he had to do was keep Mark talking and stay out of range enough until the two of them showed up. Either that or end the thing himself somehow, which was a plan he was still working on when the veteran laughed,

"You ever take a human life before Deano?"

"Only if I had to."

"In the line of duty I'm guessin' and nowhere else?"

"So what?" Dean huffed back, feeling like the man was judging him for not having spent his free time murdering random folk or possibly out in the woods skinning animals like the throwback caveman his ass clearly was.

Mark sighed and the crunch of footsteps moved closer,

"See that's where we're different son, you kill because you have to, but for me it's as natural as breathin' the air. Runs in our blood – me and my brother – well, I guess I should say _ran_ in his."

Dean gaped.

 _Oh shit_.

"You fuckin' shot him."

"Had to," Mark offered casually, "Couldn't let him ruin this. I worked too hard to keep our asses hidden and mop up all the clues that idiot left behind. We had an agreement the first time to finish things and go away and live our own separate lives but _he_ went back on that. You think I was gonna stand there and let him threaten what I'm buildin' up here?"

The bitter winter wind was still whipping around his ankles and Dean shivered at it,

"You killed your brother for a house?"

" _I killed him for my wife_ ,"

Mark practically screamed it and the sounds of his fury bounced loudly off the walls and then ricocheted in much like someone had let a bomb off since it was so damn booming it rattled loose concrete down. But it also revealed the veteran's position and the copper blonde shifted into a crouch of semi-readiness as he realized that the bigger man was almost right beneath his feet. He was still picking his way through the barren structure carefully and sweeping the probing flashlight relentlessly back and forth, but he had no earthly clue as to where his prospective victim was and that filled Dean with a measure of hope.

Right up until he tried to lean over the precipice to get a better handle on where the man was, because the shift knocked over a few loose little fragments that gave away his own position.

Mark's head snapped up.

Crap.

"Not so sure it was wise to go up there boy."

Dean shuffled back into the shadows of the bedroom wall, or what _would_ be the bedroom wall upon its completion but was still very much just bare cement like all the rest. His heart was hammering hard in his ribcage because he knew he had made a very bad move and that the man with the gun was honing in on him, leaving him between a bullet and a twenty foot drop and meaning that he had literally no other option than having to wrestle the weapon off him somehow.

That would be fun –

If it didn't fucking kill him.

Beyond him and clearly still creeping up the staircase, Mark set his gruff tones and blithely carried on, like the villain in a spy film rambling through the climax in a way that the copper blonde had figured those in real life wouldn't do.

Mark however clearly hadn't got that memo,

"Once she sees this house she'll come back to me for sure and put a stop to all of this crazy divorce talk."

 _Huh_?

No wonder the guy was right on the edge if everything he had told them had just been one big illusion and if the wife who had changed him and taken him on cruises had actually kicked him clean into touch. Dean had come across plenty of menfolk who had broken with reality when their partners had left and coupled with having spent the best part of three decades trying to cover up his murderous side, Mark had probably snapped.

But it also left him with nothing to lose and which made him more dangerous than all of the rest.

Dean held his breath as the flashlight rounded the corner and then was followed by the firearm as Mark stepped into view, trampling with both surprising stealth and agility up into the breezy and half-walled master room, still looking around for his copper blonde teammate like a type of grinning spectre as he checked the shadowed gloom and chuckling as he went until his white teeth glinted,

"Come on out Dean, make this easier on us all because there ain't no way I'm lettin' you leave in one piece."

Dean bit his lip.

He wanted to cuss at him, or more like _needed_ to several times because he suddenly had figured the precise and grim reason he had been asked to check the garage out earlier on. Mark had wanted to shoot him and then bury him beneath where the tons of concrete would be poured.

His gut flipped over and he bit down the nausea.

Roman and Seth would have never found him there and neither would anybody else most likely even though he knew fiercely that his brothers would have looked.

Fuck.

Mark stepped in closer again and Dean seized his moment, throwing some loose fragments up over the veteran's head and then listening to them land with a delicate little crunching that in the quiet of the house sounded loud and wildly clear. The second they landed Mark spun around towards them and in the instant he did, Dean burst from his hiding spot, launching himself towards the bigger man in a tackle and letting out a yell of pent up frustration as he did.

" _Argh_ – ,"

Dean hit him hard in the middle of the sternum and then wrapped his arms in tightly as he knocked them both back in an actual spear that threw them onto the concrete in a tangle of limbs which blew the air clean out of Mark.

"Oof."

Dean heard but didn't see the gun skittering away from them and the flashlight too crashed down to the ground and lay several feet off like some weird kind of spotlight illuminating their brawl for the benefit of watching crowds.

"Fucker," Dean yelled, bringing a fist up and burying it right into the bigger man's face before adding in two more because they felt pretty satisfying and it was nice to get some retribution back for himself but also for the previous poor eleven women that the big guy had murdered the first time around and also for Glenn who had been warped by his brother and twisted into something they had been forced to track down.

Maybe he was a little _too_ angry about it though since it made him predictable and easy to read and meant that instead of taking the fourth blow, Mark instead lifted a big fist and caught the swinging hand, closing his fingers around it easily and then replying with a hellacious right hook of his own, which actually managed to knock Dean backwards and onto his ass with a grunt of pain.

"Crap – ,"

For a man who was probably pushing close to sixty and had a bad leg, Mark moved pretty fast and Dean only barely managed to roll from the big boot that he vaguely registered swinging for his head. Flipping over however brought him close to the precipice and his heart lurched as his gaze suddenly fell upon the floor, lying a terrifying twenty feet below him and making him twist back to the concrete a little more.

He kicked a leg out and caught Mark in his arthritis or peg leg or whatever the hell the thing was and it brought the big man down onto his kneecaps but also in a whole lot closer to his neck.

"God damn it son – ,"

Something flashed from Mark's pocket and Dean threw his hands out to stop it but moved too slow, because the next thing he knew a length of black electric cabling had been slipped past his face and pulled in tight around his throat.

Fuck.

 _No, no, no_.

Dean scrabbled on instinct and then let out the first of what would likely be many gasps, as his lungs responded to the burst of adrenaline by asking for more oxygen.

Sadly there was none.

Dean began to wrestle and try to flip his way out of it but his panic merely allowed the bigger man to move in close, pulling the copper blonde back into his midriff until the veteran's stomach was pressed flush to his spine and which provided the killer with the perfect position to pull even tighter and hiss into his ear,

"Shush, let it happen now."

Dean flung a hand back and tried to scratch the eyeballs and actually succeeded in raking his nails down the cheek, but Mark remained strong and almost totally unflinching as he looped more cable round.

Dean spluttered and wheezed,

"D-don't – pl-please – ,"

Everything hurt through every part of his body from his lungs to the phenomenal pounding pressure in his head, which made it feel like his skull was going to rupture if his damn alveoli didn't beat him to it first.

"Easy son, better not try and fight it."

Dean threw his hand out in a desperate last attempt and felt his heavy fingers brush loosely over something that he then had to fight to make them actually pick up.

He was dying.

Fucking _dying_ –

No two ways about it and so whatever the hell his hand was haphazardly ghosting over potentially comprised his last chance to get out and so he coughed out a choked sounding burst of aggression and heaved it up and backwards with his last ounce of strength. It turned out that what he was holding was the flashlight and in the scheme of things it made a pretty good hammer too, since his clumsy trajectory planted it right into Mark's temple with a hellacious impact that split the plastic casing in half.

 _Crack_.

Mark let out a weird sounding exhale and then the hands dropped away from their grip on the cord, but Dean continued to swing his weapon upwards anyway in panicky death throes as his vision spotted out. He caught Mark again and then registered a slither as the big guy fell clean away from his back and tipped over the edge of the unguarded precipice and down onto the floor of the living room below.

Dead.

He had to be.

Mark Calaway was dead right?

Dean tried to find out but his spotting eyes gave out and so too did the rest of his poor battered body as the tightly tied off cable continued to cut his breathing off. The flashlight fell from his fingers with a clatter, or at least he assumed that was probably the sound, because instead his ears were filled with loud whistling like there were five hundred people going for a record of some sort and he felt his own position starting to go over in what he hoped was not a similar fall from the edge since it would have been pretty fucking bitterly ironic if they had both of them ended up splattered over the lounge floor.

"Ugh."

Luckily however he simply face-planted forwards with one arm limply dangling across the hefty drop. He tried to lift it up again to take off the ligature, but discovered that the veteran had wrapped the death noose tight and there was no fucking way his barely-there fingers could unravel it.

He was going to die anyway.

Great.

Fucking great.

Dates and times and senses lost all meaning, but mostly he was worried that he couldn't see _her_. He couldn't see her smiling face rolling her eyes and looking back at him in the way she always did when he was close to the edge and which usually made him feel all comfortable and happy like maybe his time had finally come to the end.

But she wasn't there –

So maybe it wasn't over?

Feet came pounding in from below him like a freight train then slid to a halt with a breathless hiss, in tones that made it seem like whoever the new people were, they had just found a dead body.

Oh right, they had.

Mark.

"Fuck man,"

Dean screwed his addled face up a little, because in the recesses of his mind and through the whistling and the screaming he almost could have sworn that it sounded like Seth, only his brain couldn't figure why his teammate would be there with him or where he had come from or if it wasn't some dying dream.

"Dean?"

 _Roman_.

He tried to call out to them, but instead succeeded only in closing the noose off more and so the words fell out as a wheeze of pure agony and then a series of panicky staccato attempted breaths as his lungs tried frantically to pull in the oxygen his poor stricken body was crying out for and that cut through the air with such a measure of suddenness that the men below him clued into it then looked up at once.

"Dean, fuck."

Feet hauled ass up the staircase and seconds later hands fell down on him hard, making him jolt and in turn pulling the cable so that the remaining path of airflow completely cut off and which rendered him totally breathless and panicked so that his body started spasming.

"Easy babe, we're here, easy uce, easy, we're here now."

In an instant his shuddering form was flipped clean over so that his forehead was pillowed up against a broad arm and held within the crook of a sturdy feeling elbow that he knew on pure instinct belonged to Seth. More fingers were working at the tangled mess of cabling and there was grunting from behind him suggesting it wasn't easy work and which only managed to prolong the agony.

He honestly wasn't sure how much time he had left.

Dean could feel his lips getting colder and his fingers and toes too as the oxygen ran out and obviously he looked about as bad as he was feeling since Seth buzzed beneath him and then shouted,

"Come _on_ man."

"Quit yelling, I'm going as fast as I can here."

Dean melted into the sound of their tones, even if the world _was_ fading around him and he was right on the verge of clean giving up, because the gruffness and the sensations meant his brothers were with him and that therefore he wasn't going to be left to die alone.

Seth palmed his hair,

"Nearly there, nearly there man."

Then suddenly the cable fell away from his throat and bitterly cold air was racing back through it and flooding his respiratory system with a beautiful hot ice that broke in faster than he knew what to do with until he was coughing and choking on it and almost weeping with relief. He rocked himself further into the crook of the bracing elbow and then spluttered and wheezed and rose the last few spasms out, as the oxygen starvation was replaced by shock-shivers that turned him into one big shaking mess.

Seth held him tighter,

"Whoa, whoa, you're okay man."

Big hands fell down around his poor throbbing neck and then gently unwound the last few coils of cable before pressing cool palms against the clearly risen welts and then lifting up to brush the hair from his forehead and ground him to something solid,

"Babe, open your eyes."

Roman was staring back at him closely through the haziness when Dean finally managed to do what was asked and although his view of the world was spotty and blinded by flashing blobs, he knew that at once and even managed a drunken looking smile in the direction of his brother,

"H-hey uce."

He sounded like crap and all of them knew it but his greeting was met with a smile all the same and a heavy sounding sigh behind him courtesy of their younger man, which actually bumped him up and down a little as he lay half-slumped in his fractious teammate's arms.

Roman leaned over and palmed his hair again gently,

"You okay?"

"Ye-ah."

"You sure about that?"

Dean was shaking like some sort of earthquake or like one of those weird battery controlled weight loss straps and in spite of the fact it was probably shocked based, the icy whipping wind was doing little to help and actually made his fucking teeth chatter.

Roman pulled off his jacket and laid it over his chest.

Seth meanwhile was still busy cursing into the distance but he was still hanging on tight and rubbing heavy circles around Dean's back, possibly not even too sure that he was doing it but needing to be moving or in some way trying to help.

He shook his head,

"Fuck."

"Is – ," Dean began roughly, pausing to cough up a bubble of blood, "Is Mark dead?"

"Yeah man, he's not getting up from that one."

Seth was rocking them both back and forth in another completely absent but frantic little gesture which implied that he himself was possibly about to go insane and Dean tried to push himself upwards a little before giving up weakly and slumping back against his chest.

"M' sorry I killed your childhood hero."

Seth snorted,

"I'm not sorry that he didn't kill _you_ , or at least not before I got the chance to do it, I mean _fuck_ man, that one was way too damn close."

Behind them in the distance there was the low sound of sirens, being carried up the hillside by the power of the wind and Dean lifted up an exhausted looking eyebrow which he levelled at Roman,

"Uh oh, did you call Steph?"

"Had to babe."

"Damn," Dean coughed again, "She ain't gonna be happy."

He was rewarded with a smile and yet another familiar loving tousle which then stopped and simply rested in his hair like Roman was worried he might somehow take off of them and was looking to keep his ass there for as long as he could.

"Let her bitch, that ain't important."

Dean blew out a long and scratchy sounding sigh, wincing at how much his throat grated and protested but knowing that it was worth it when it hit his thankful lungs. He turned himself a little so that he was lying more comfortably within the stability of his younger brother's arms and then let his eyes flicker shut for a second, intending to simply rest them.

Instead he passed clean out.

* * *

 **Well there we go, big climactic finale good and done! Hope you all liked it and the fact that this time our boy managed to save himself (mostly).**

 **One more chapter left to go now, so see you in three days!**


	17. The Way Life's Meant To Be

**Here we go then, for the last time on this journey! Info on more from this universe at the bottom but first of all THANK YOU EVERYONE! I'm so pleased and flattered that this world has generated so much attention but I wouldn't have written half so many of them without you guys pushing me on, big hugs all round!**

 **Skovko, Thanks, my mum is doing really well! Sorry I didn't put Mark in jail for you but glad you liked reading about his death, kinda went all out on gore for this one...for me anyway! As ever my lovely, thank you being there every chapter!**

 **Cherry619, Yeah, the poor boys are always having to run after Dean, but that's what brothers are for right? Thought it was about time that Dean saved himself, apart from the choking! Hope you like this last chapter and thank you so much for your reviews!**

 **Mandy, I hope things with your grandma are okay. I know it's not the same, but I probably know a bit how you're feeling, it's kind of like treading water. But whatever happens it will get better. Thank you for always reviewing and being there. *Hugs***

 **LHisawesome4ever, Aww, thank you, the blacklash concerning Mark is mentioned here, so you'll have to see what you think and there are more one shot stories coming too (see below) so hopefully you'll be there for those. Thank you for your lovely reviews.**

 **Minnie1015, Yep, I gave you a double whammy last time of Dean being all brave but also needing his boys to take care of him. I'm good to you like that! More coming but first that prison AU you've been dying to read (hope you still are!) Lauren and Dean too!**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Glad to have you on the edge of your seat, because I'm mean like that and I like to make you squirm a little bit! Yep, Mark totally lost it, but did a good job of keeping it hidden...for a while! One last chapter coming up and thank you sooo much for reviewing!**

 **Derick Lindsey, Yep, Dean can handle himself sometimes too! Hope you like this last chapter and you're right, more one shots coming but a brand new AU first, hope you'll check it out. Thank you for having taken the time to reviews, means a lot.**

 **Kirrak, Aww, yay, I'm glad you liked it, I never know whether or not I've hit the right tone for the big finales until I've put them out! And thank you for your well wishes, my mum is doing really well and the doctors are super pleased! Have loved reading your reviews as always!**

 **Cheryl24, Michelle is not in this chapter except as one of the mourners I suppose, I wanted this one to mostly be about the boys (with a bit of Cesaro because why not?!) Glad you have enjoyed it and hope this one finishes it nicely. Thank you so much for your reviews.**

 **Daisysakura, Haha, I think we are officially hurt!Dean loving!boys soulmates! Glad I put you on the edge of your seat, but Roman and Seth will always come through! Thank for your well wishes and your reviews, see you at the next one too I hope?!**

 **Wwe21, Thanks for your review. I'm writing more one shots but following my own ideas because I have sooo many I needed to write, they'll be coming soon though. I needed someone people thought was good but could be bad, Mark fitted perfectly!**

 **For the last time this story then everyone...**

* * *

 **The Way Life's Meant To Be**

The funeral had been nice in the way they mostly seemed to be and had literally been packed with black colored mourning suits and people who had turned out to pay their last respects to a person they had all held in impossibly lofty esteem. There had been a blizzard raging – it still was frankly – so the outside part of the ceremony had been pretty quick and in the end they had only had to shiver their asses through a speech by the tearful widow and the obligatory one by Vince.

Roman and Seth had tried to talk him out of it, but Dean had been adamant that he wanted to go. Not to pay homage or mourn the guy's loss or anything but to make sure the guy made it into the ground and then possibly to dance on his grave a very little once the genuine mourners were gone.

Because one thing was for sure –

He wouldn't miss Mark Calaway or celebrate his life.

Goodbye and good night.

In the immediate aftermath of the night on the hillside when the veteran had revealed his true nature to the world, Stephanie and Vince had sworn them all to silence and then holed up in her office making some sort of contingency plan.

To say their idea had gone down badly was a weighty understatement,

Seth and Roman had hit the roof,

"You want to hold a fucking _ceremony_ for the asshole?"

Vince had spread his hands,

"You have to understand – ,"

Roman had cut him off in tones of pure fury and delivered the words beneath a hugely tightly drawn brow, that had left the onlookers by no means doubtful of his opinions on the matter,

"He tried to kill Dean, he _did_ kill his brother _and_ eleven women – ,"

Stephanie had interrupted him shortly,

"We know."

"You sure 'bout that?"

In the end the tensions in the room had reached a fever pitch, until Dean himself had suddenly sat up, shifting the ice pack held in tight around his neckline and the trauma of his ordeal making everyone shut up. Perhaps nearly having been garrotted by a murderer offered certain perks?

He had waved an airy hand,

"I get it."

Seth had blinked,

"Then you wanna explain it? Because me and the big guy aren't getting this shit at all."

Except for the fact that on some level they all did, because no matter what had happened in the hours up on the hill, the fact remained that Mark Calaway was still a legend and a name on the street that everyone knew. Suplex City had always had a problem with ridding itself of the reputation for violent crime and it was people like 'Taker' who had helped to hold the worst back in the years before their own secret taskforce had been birthed. People respected the name and the news reports that – much like Seth – they had read and kept tabs on. Mark Calaway was not just a _policeman's_ policeman, he was practically the figurehead of the whole damn force. No way could they have admitted that he was the murderer who had held them in such terror twenty five years before.

No way.

Faith in the police would have been totally ruined and so in the end they'd had no fucking choice but to celebrate his life and accept the tears and sympathies and the lies that had been babbled by the eulogists –

Including Vince.

Dean had sucked it up then watched the coffin getting buried, before turning with his two brothers and heading off for a drink.

Cesaro was almost beside himself with anguish,

"It's on the house boys, we've all had a hard day."

He offered out the sentence along with a bottle the second the three of them trooped in through the doors, the wind that chased in after them rattling the paintings and blowing soft white snowflakes in around the room.

Seth nodded vaguely,

"Thanks man."

They hit their table and then set about shrugging out of their suit jackets and ties, until they each of them felt a little more normal and a little less like a gang of pretentious stuffed shirts. The bottle that Cesaro had given them was brandy and while it was none of their usual choice, the dark liquid was smooth and beautifully warming and chased off the worst of the bitterness from their hearts.

Well, maybe not quite.

"To the Southside Strangler," Dean held up his tumbler so that it glinted in the light, "Both of 'em."

Roman sighed,

"Least they can't hurt anybody else now."

Seth shook his head,

"God damn it, this isn't right. I mean planting the blame on Glenn for the murders while making out like his brother was the best thing about the force?"

He tailed off rapidly and then sucked another gulp down to mask whatever curse he had been about to spit out and instead internalizing it in a series of expressions that let his brothers know that he was yelling it in his head.

Dean poured him some more,

"So you think maybe they should 'a told his kids about what happened, or how 'bout the poor little cryin' blonde wife back there? You think they deserve to know their old man was a killer who shot their long lost half-uncle to death an' liked to wind rope round other peoples' necks an' strangle 'em for kicks?"

"No."

Dean shrugged back,

"Then there's your answer, 'sides, people believin' in the us is a good thing, might make our lives easier."

"We nearly damn well lost you Dean."

Seth blurted the words out while slamming down his tumbler in a way that made the liquid slop over the sides and was delivered with a sudden and pulsating burst of anger which was directed at the man being patted down beneath the earth and for who in a bar a few blocks over, the great and good of the city were sharing canapes for and swapping anecdotes and having kind thoughts about.

Dean reached over and flicked his ear,

"Ow, what was that for?"

"To remind you m' still here, n' m' not goin' anywhere."

Roman snorted,

"Not too late to change your mind."

In response to the teasing, their younger man rubbed his ear lobe and then glowered across heatedly at his two grinning friends, who seemed to be taking the whole funeral hoopla far better than he was and for reasons he couldn't guess.

He grumbled back testily,

"What the hell is wrong with you two?"

Dean shrugged,

"I dunno, guess m' just happy to be alive."

He had clearly intended the sentence as a loose one but the weight of it caught and then dragged the mood right down and stifled the formerly easy chatter over the table in a way that made him clear his throat and then roll his blue eyes. Beneath the part-shaved stubble and above the unbuttoned collar there was a band of red marks that was still trying to heal and which reminded his teammates each time they caught a sight of it, that he had very nearly been strangled to death.

Seth looked up at him,

"Do those things hurt still?"

"Not too much, unless I turn over an' lie on 'em in bed."

Roman snorted back,

"Well that's what you get uce, for trying to catch two killers by yourself."

He was grinning and the sight of the brightly lit up features and the sounds of the deep chuckle brought the mood swiftly back and within less than a second they were all three of them smiling because when they were together and happy and generally healthy, the bad times never seemed to last for too long. Dean took another sip of his brandy and then turned thoughtful,

"I didn't see my girl that time."

"What time?" Seth frowned,

"When I was bein' – y' know – _strangled_ , I didn't see her smilin' at me the way I do when – ,"

Dean chose not to finish the sentence, but instead waved his hands around in the air as if the word he wanted was floating right in front of him and he was trying to bat it down or make it pop up. Luckily however, he didn't need to say it because the two men in front of him were his very best friends and so they knew in an instant how to unravel the sentence and precisely what it meant.

 _When I'm staring down death_.

Roman cleared his throat a little and then tried to look casual as he poured more booze out, but then blew his cool façade by filling his tumbler to close to the brim line and spilling it over the top of the glass.

"Why do you think that was?"

Dean shrugged,

"I dunno uce, figure it wasn't my time then, y' know? Plus I knew you two assholes were comin', so I think that means my girl is kinda keen for me to stick around, probably knows I need to keep tabs on my two brothers."

Roman smiled back at him,

"Maybe babe, maybe."

From behind them Cesaro came in over the parquet and then dragged a noisy chair across the empty lunchtime bar before shaking his head and blowing a breath out with a look of totally genuine remorse.

"He was an incredible man."

He was talking about Mark again but was met by a muted and unconvinced sounding pause, which thankfully he was far too cut up to really notice and which was then finally filled in by a very sarcastic Seth.

"Yeah, he was something."

That was the part that really hurt, the fact that they would forever have to bump into people who wanted to espouse how amazing they thought Mark was, but who would never have to look at the path of sheer carnage he had carved through his victim's lives or else on his target's throats and who would also never have to see their friend or their brother, half-conscious on the floor having fought for his damn life.

Dean had passed out on the floor of the half-built bedroom as the cavalry had shown up, sirens blaring in dark and led by Steph of all fucking people, who had taken charge and purposefully kept the responding officers well back and instead insisted on them getting Mark taken out of there instead of having attention drawn to her battered taskforce.

 _A terrible accident_.

That was how she had described it, by which she had possibly meant bringing Mark back into the fold but which seemed to satisfy the shell-shocked looking beat cops who had soberly removed the body of the policing icon.

Stephanie had crept up towards them on the first-floor once everyone else was busy,

"Is he okay?"

She had been asking about the limp looking copper blonde man, whom Seth had been cradling to his chest like a newborn and even rocking backwards and forwards as his eyes had blazed up at her,

"What does it look like to you?"

Roman had thankfully been a little more even,

"Mark tried to strangle him, Dean knocked him over the edge."

Stephanie had surprised them then by dropping down next to them in a squat of almost motherly looking concern, which had then been enforced as she had laid her palm across her officer right at the point above his steadily beating heart, as if she had needed to convince herself he was with them and which hadn't been a huge surprised based on how terrible he had looked.

She had sucked in a breath,

"I can't believe this happened, I mean Mark was – Mark was – ,"

Seth had grunted back,

"Yeah, I know."

Because at one point or another the recently deceased veteran had clearly been a huge inspiration to them both and so the horrific revelation of his true deadly nature was a huge breach of trust in which the both of them could share.

Back in the present, Cesaro held up the bottle and waved it around at the glum looking group, topping up his own drained crystalware first off before grinning,

"Who wants another?"

Roman shook his head,

"Nah, thanks man, but we're on the clock here."

Technically speaking it wasn't a lie, because while they were no longer searching for a murderer, they were already plugging through the next few cases on their desks and mopping up drug dealers, rapists and traffickers in the same uber glamorous way the three of them always did.

Having a drink had just been a pit-stop.

But they had to be getting themselves back to the grind,

"You sure?" Cesaro asked, "Not got time for another?"

Dean threw back his own remaining booze,

"We're good man, 'sides – y' know – can't be wastin' those tax dollars by sittin' round here gettin' hammered on the job, always some slippery little worm needs catchin' somewhere."

Seth too put his glass down,

"Sorry, but they're right man."

Cesaro waved his hands and smiled in response to them, because essentially the big Swiss man was impossible to insult, since he carried about him a lightness of spirit that would have made the biggest asshole in the universe brighten up.

"Sure, sure, next time then?"

Dean made a finger gun,

"You know it dude."

Then together they pulled their heavy winter coats back on and zippered them up until only their noses were showing through since the weather outside was about as bad as they'd ever known and which the forecasters were promising was just the start of a week of snow, but which hopefully would lessen their own workload slightly, since not even brutal criminals liked having cold toes.

Roman slapped Cesaro roundly on the shoulders,

"Take it easy man."

The bar owner cheerfully waved them off and then watched with a grin as they shuffled across the threshold, back out into the howling wind.

Seth hissed,

"Jesus."

But the breath was sucked straight out of him and then hurled it off at a point about a mile down the road, since mother nature seemed to be having a tantrum, complete with probing fingers and frozen icicles in eyes. Roman had parked their surveillance van down the street a way and they skidded towards it in an ungainly three man run, before flinging the doors open and piling inside it.

Dean threw himself on top of Seth,

"Hey, watch it man – ,"

"Then maybe you wanna get in a little faster, I mean not like there's a blizzard out there or anythin'."

Roman snorted as he clambered in behind the steering wheel and then watched his brothers try to find their own space, jostling and pushing one another like children until Dean squeezed through the partition gap and fell down onto the backseat. He stretched his legs out and steepled his fingers on his stomach before blowing out a breath,

"Hey uce, turn the heatin' up."

"Coming your way babe."

He fired the rumbly old van back into life again and then flipped the heaters and twiddled with the dials until a thick wall of air was noisily pumping out at them,

Seth peered through the windscreen,

"Figure this thing will make it home?"

Roman threw back a look of offence at him, as if somehow questioning their little van's abilities was also a type of prowess-based insult on him.

"Sure it will."

"Alright, alright man, I'm just asking."

Roman flipped on the blinker and in response to the motion, Dean blew a sigh out and then hummed a little note, like the movement was amusing and which drew the big brown eyes up towards the rear view mirror.

"Babe, you alright?"

"Just the three of us again," Dean grinned broadly, beneath closed eyes that were savoring the flood of warmth.

Seth snorted,

"Yeah, think we learned our lesson on _that_ one."

The copper blonde head nodded back at them sleepily but also pretty happily,

"I like it like that."

Beside them a car slid past on the asphalt, struggling a little on the new layer of snow and charting the perfect imprint of rubber through the mashed potato looking offering fast painting the streets, turning their grimy and criminal-strewn metropolis into something ethereal and virginal and white. Roman checked his mirrors and then pulled out into the traffic with a last clipped instruction that underlined their three man team and filled them all with a deep sense of normality which made the world seem perfect,

"Uce, put your seatbelt on."

* * *

 **Okay everyone, that's it, we're done! Again, thanks so much for being with me on this journey.**

 **The good news is that while you've been reading this one, I've been working on a whole bunch more oneshots for this AU.**

 **I have a brand new story to come first (in a shiny new AU where Roman and Dean are prison inmates coming next week called 'Hard Time') but then as soon as that is finished or maybe somewhere a little sooner, I will start adding more oneshots to The Shield Unscripted again, so look out for those in the next couple of months!**

 **THANK YOU!**


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